The Golden Thread
by ChasedByTheShadows
Summary: Lucie Selwyn, a citizen of Lord Voldemort's regime in the year 2022, has always been a proper pureblooded lady. When she is attacked on the day of her wedding to Scorpius Malfoy and sent back in time, her world spirals out of control. Can Lucie change her past and save her future before it is too late, and what will she learn about herself along the way? AU, Tom Riddle/OC.
1. A Wedding Day

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 1: A Wedding Day****

****(A/N: So, this story may or may not be familiar to you. I posted it a while back, abandoned it, and then recently came back to it. I've decided to go through and re-edit the whole thing, so I took down the original, and will be posting from scratch again. If you're a new reader, welcome! If you're a returning reader, welcome back! This is an AU time travel story, focused on a Tom Riddle/OC pairing, and I hope you enjoy!)****

The students of Hogwarts had been taught many things in the twenty-four years since the end of the Second Wizarding War. Lord Voldemort, the Supreme Ruler, was the most powerful wizard ever to live. He would live forever, gracing the world with his leadership for eternity. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had died like a coward, running away. Purebloods were the only sort that could be considered human—Half-Breeds, Mudbloods, and Muggles were no better than animals and, as such, had been exterminated or forced into servitude.

Lucie Selwyn had never given much thought to these things. As the youngest daughter of an extremely wealthy pureblood family, they had been ingrained into her from the very day of her birth. Perhaps she had always felt that something wasn't quite right about the mantra she had been taught about blood, but her doubts alarmed her, and of course she'd never dare to admit them, even to herself.

Lucie looked into the gold-rimmed mirror in front of her, running a brush unnecessarily through her dark blonde curls. Her grey eyes were encircled with touches of the highest quality makeup available, applied painstakingly by her mother. A sigh passing her lips, Lucie rose from her chair, her long, lacy white dress swirling about her.

It was her sixteenth birthday, but it was not important for the reasons that many would think. She was not simply celebrating the progression of her age, but a union that had been planned since she was an infant. All her life, Lucie had been betrothed, as was proper for young pureblood ladies, and the day had come when she was to be married. Her husband-to-be was the heir to the Malfoy fortune, a boy slightly older than her by the name of Scorpius.

A slight smile fell across her features as Lucie walked around her bedroom for the last time. There were photographs of her family placed here and there around the airy, spacious room. Her mother, Drusilla, and her father, Morpheus, standing together on their own wedding day, waving regally at the camera. It had been a spectacular event, as Lucie had been told, full of laughter and dancing.

There were pictures of the day that Lucie's sister, Anastasia, had been married as well, just a year prior. Anastasia's husband was a kind sort of fellow, and he seemed to make his wife happy. Lucie hoped that her husband would do the same.

Anastasia and Mortimer (the only son of the family), had inherited their parents' smooth dark hair, dark eyes, and long eyelashes. Lucie had always wondered about her own golden hair, but her mother had told her time and again, when discussing the matter, that Selwyns had married Malfoys before—good, respectable pureblood families tended to be interrelated—and her colouring came from that part of their family.

Glancing down at her hand, Lucie studied the large, beautiful engagement ring that had adorned her finger since the age of eleven. The diamond, though ample, was tastefully cut and surrounded by smaller diamonds, and they all sat prettily on the white gold band. The ring was goblin-crafted, Lucie had been told, and had been in the Malfoy line for many decades.

It had been given to her in a formal ceremony, as was tradition. There had been a grand dinner in the gardens, and she and Scorpius had been thrust under the heated gaze of all the politely clapping pureblood families surrounding them. The young boy had taken a knee, as he was supposed to, and presented her with the ring and a proposal for her hand in marriage. A very red-faced Lucie had graciously accepted, but she hadn't been able to look Scorpius in the eye for quite some time.

Smiling a bit at the memory, Lucie wandered over to her large bay window and gazed down at the sprawling, beautiful gardens of the Selwyn estate. Closer to the manor, there was a lush expanse of green grass, fully trimmed and equipped with rows of white chairs, an aisle littered with rose petals, and refreshment tables, around which gathered many a pureblood witch and wizard, all surely honored to be guests at a such a blessed union.

Thinking of who would be presiding over the ceremony, Lucie paled just the slightest amount. The Supreme Ruler had conducted every union of pureblood children since the beginning of his regime—and, indeed, that was __every __union. Those not of respectable blood status did not have the luxury of entering into something so prestigious as marriage.

After a while, when Lucie had finally finished dressing, Anastasia entered into the room. She wore a simple, emerald-coloured bridesmaid dress, complete with a proud smile. Her dark hair was pulled prettily into a style that was befitting of a wealthy young woman, and a string of family pearls, given to her on her own wedding day, rested lightly on her throat.

"Lucie, dear," she said softly, "it is time."

Adjusting her dress one last time, Lucie placed a hand on Anastasia's arm and allowed the older girl to lead her out of her bedroom and down the grand, sweeping staircase to the lower level of their manor. They passed several servants along the way—pitiable, cowering creatures with dirty blood, her mother always said. Lucie, always a proper young lady, had never done anything cruel to any of them in particular, but her indifference was enough to make them frightened of her.

Morpheus was waiting by the imposing, ornate double doors that led to the yard. He gazed at his youngest daughter as she descended the stairs, appraising her, and then finally granted her a rare smile, finding nothing wrong.

"You look beautiful, my daughter," he said when the two sisters reached him, kissing Lucie lightly on the forehead. He turned to the older sister. "Anastasia, dear, go and inform the orchestra that the bride is prepared to make her entrance." Nodding once and squeezing her sister's shoulder encouragingly, Anastasia was off.

As they waited, Lucie thought of how odd it would be to go back to school for her sixth year with a husband. It wasn't a particularly bothersome thought to her, but she didn't find excessive cheer in it, either. It was simply the way things were. Many of her classmates were married, or soon would be. It was the custom.

The music began to play and Lucie, taking a deep breath, took hold of her father's arm and stepped out into the sunlight.

All of the guests had risen to their feet as the orchestra began to play, and they craned their necks to see the bride. Lucie had allowed a gracious smile to fall across her reddened lips, and she let her eyes roam around the scene before her. Near the front of the congregation were her mother and brother, Mortimer. The former's eyes were brimming with tears, and she blew a silent kiss to her daughter. Every pureblood family of worth was in attendance, but Lucie's eyes were instead trained on the end of the aisle.

Scorpius stood there handsomely, hands clasped together out of sheer nervousness. Beside him, looming menacingly, was the Supreme Ruler, dressed in the billowing black robes he always wore. Lucie had always been quietly terrified of the man—if he could indeed be called such—but had never voiced her thoughts. To do so would be akin to treason.

As she walked slowly with her father, Lucie thought that things were progressing beautifully, better than she could have expected.

Then a woman screeched, the sound almost inhuman, and the entire procession stopped—even the orchestra sputtered into silence. The woman continued to wail, incoherent words escaping into the air, and Lucie saw who it was.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a deranged madwoman, they all knew, but she had been a fearsome warrior in the war against Harry Potter, and was revered as a loyal follower of the Supreme Ruler. If one wanted to remain alive, they would not dare to question her. At that moment, she was standing at the end of the aisle, in front of her master as though guarding him, and waving her wand about dangerously.

"Traitor!" she bellowed, pointing her wand directly at Lucie's chest. "Filthy little heathen! This girl is an imposter!"

Shock spread through Lucie at Bellatrix's nonsensical accusations. The woman was crazed—Lucie was a Selwyn, with blood as pure as blood could be. Before the terrified girl could put a voice to any of her thoughts, the madwoman had jumped from the dais, and was heading straight for Lucie. A curse fell from Bellatrix's lips, and a jet of red light shot out of her wand, aimed for the bride.

The congregation exploded into chaos, people running about and screaming, trying to Disapparate with their families. Suddenly, Lucie felt herself being pulled out of the way of the curse and shoved unceremoniously under one of the refreshment tables. She turned to see her savior, expecting to meet her father's eyes, but found herself face to face with a hooded figure, all of their features shrouded in darkness.

Lucie tried to scream, to alert her family, but the figure clapped a hand over her mouth before she could so much as make a sound. Lucie could tell from the size of the hands that it was a man, and he pulled her flush against him

"Please, Lucie, don't struggle," he whispered, and the very sound of her name was enough to shock her into stillness. The stranger continued: "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. If I let you go, can I trust you not to scream?"

Still thoroughly petrified, Lucie nodded weakly. The figure sighed once and removed his hand, and Lucie turned around to look at him, hoping to get a glimpse of his face. Before she could reach for his hood, though the stranger thrust something into Lucie's hand. She glanced down, surprised to see a a tied, fully packed rucksack. She tried to speak again, but the stranger had already moved onto another task.

He was looping a thin golden chain around her neck, and upon further inspection, Lucie saw that it was connected to a strange device she had never seen the likes of.

"Turn the dial all the way back, Lucie," the figure whispered before she could ask what it was. "Hurry, before it's too late!"

Suddenly another voice reached them, through all of the chaos outside. "I'll find you, little girl! You can't hide from me!" At the sound of Bellatrix's screeching, Lucie paled and she felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

The stranger grabbed Lucie's chin, turning her attention back to the device hanging around her neck. Panicking, she placed her thumb on the dial and, just as he had told her to, she pulled it all the way back.

She felt a jerk in her chest, and everything went black.


	2. A Time Long Forgotten

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 2: A Time Long Forgotten****

Just as Lucie was beginning to think that the dreadful spinning would never cease, she felt herself land roughly on something hard and unyielding. Keeping her eyes shut tight, she put a hand to her head, which was pounding dully. It took a moment, but she was finally able to open her eyes and look around.

She was in the middle of a large expanse of overgrown grass and, with a jolt, realized that the curvature of the land looked familiar because she had just been there. She was in the middle of the gardens of the Selwyn estate, but there was nothing there. The dais, the wedding guests, the tables and chairs, her family, Scorpius, even Bellatrix—all were gone. Lucie looked over her shoulder and saw that where the manor should have stood, there was only empty space.

As the shock wore off, dread began to creep up Lucie's chest, and suddenly she wanted to cry. She hadn't cried since she was a little girl, because it wasn't a proper thing for a lady to do. Now, though, she had run away from her wedding, like a coward, like a criminal, just because a stranger in a hood had told her to. It had been so chaotic, and Bellatrix had her so frightened, that she did it without thinking.

Shifting a little in her lacy, uncomfortable wedding dress, Lucie noticed that she was still holding the rucksack. As she set it in front of her to examine, something fell out of the open front pocket. It was a note, only a few words in length, and it was addressed to her:

__Lucie,__

__Take the ring out of this bag. It will take you where you need to go.__

Brow furrowed, Lucie reached into the bag and felt around. Finally, her fingers landed on a small metal object, which she pulled out. It was made of plain, slightly worn silver, and appeared to be a man's wedding band. It was attached to a long chain, perhaps so that one may wear it around their neck.

As Lucie looked at the ring, it began to glow blue. Her eyes widened, and she realized it was a Portkey. She clutched it tighter out of sheer fright, though part of her wanted to throw the thing as far away as possible.

Just as Lucie grabbed onto the rucksack, she felt a peculiar sensation like being hooked around the navel. She'd traveled by Portkey a few times before, and had never particularly enjoyed it. The only method of magical transportation she didn't despise was Floo powder. Portkeys and Apparition were too jarring, and it wouldn't do for a lady of her standing to be seen riding around on a broom.

She was spinning again, and it was lucky her stomach was empty, or else Lucie feared she would have been sick all over her dress. Luckily, the Portkey deposited her soon after, and she was able to quell her nausea by taking a few deep breaths. With trembling hands, she placed the ring, which had stopped glowing, around her neck, figuring it would be best to keep it there for the time being. The cool metal fell to her chest, coming to rest right next to the other peculiar device there.

Lucie picked up the little object, bringing it close to her face. It was rather small, made of gold, and in the center of a ring of numbers was a tiny, delicate hourglass. Lucie had never seen such a thing, and couldn't make heads or tails of it.

With a sigh, she let the device fall back to her throat, and turned to look at her new surroundings. Her breath caught as she took in the imposing frame of her school, Hogwarts, looming over her. She had landed in a secluded corner of the grounds, behind some tall shrubbery. The castle looked the same, yet something felt inexplicably different about it, something that Lucie couldn't quite place.

Cautiously, she crawled over to the rucksack and opened the fastenings all the way, looking at the contents inside. With a small measure of relief, she found a few Galleons and Sickles, and some clothes—a skirt, grey stockings, a warm-looking blouse, and a pair of simple black shoes. At least she could change out of her restrictive dress.

Staying hidden behind the shrubbery, Lucie removed her wedding attire. Her wand, thankfully, was still stowed safely in an inner pocket of the dress, where she had put it that morning. She put on the new clothes and performed a simple shrinking spell on her dress, which she put into the rucksack. As she did so, her eyes landed on something else in the bag that she had not seen before.

It was a folded piece of parchment, closed with a seal that Lucie didn't recognize as belonging to any of the pureblood families she knew. Carefully, Lucie picked up the parchment. She didn't break out into boils or anything of the sort, so it didn't appear to be cursed. As slowly as she dared, she placed a finger on the seal.

Immediately, a small shock ran through her body, and she dropped the parchment with a yelp of surprise. She cast her eyes downward to glare at the offending object, and was surprised to see that large, carefully scrawled words had appeared on the front.

FOR THE EYES OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ONLY

Shock such as she had never felt began to spread through Lucie, starting at her erratically beating heart and steadily making its way to the tips of her fingers and toes. Even as the words faded, leaving the parchment blank once more, Lucie could not erase the sight of them from her mind's eye. That name—the name of the only man the Supreme Ruler had ever feared—had been outlawed in her time. Only professors teaching of the Dark Lord's great triumph over the man were allowed to utter it, and even then it was only to be used in great necessity.

So the parchment, and whatever message it contained, was for him. __But that's impossible__, thought Lucie. Dumbledore had been dead for a quarter of a century. He'd been killed years before Lucie was even born. So why, __why__, had the hooded stranger given her a note meant for him?

Before Lucie could think any more on the matter, the sound of voices penetrated her little haven behind the shrubbery. She quickly hid the golden device and the ring beneath her blouse and bent to pick up the fallen parchment, but was careful to keep her fingers away from the seal. Her hands began to shake as the voices drew closer and, fearing the worst, Lucie raised her wand, ready to conjure a shield if necessary.

As it turned out, no shield was needed. Two young boys, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years of age, came around the corner, their wands held aloft as well. When they caught sight of Lucie, they stopped dead and simply stared at her.

The first thing Lucie took notice of, besides their semi-threatening stances, was their attire. Both boys were wearing standard black Hogwarts robes, but they were different than the ones Lucie had always worn. The trim and the small badges near the chest were emblazoned with bits of yellow, whereas hers—and all of her classmates'—had always been green. Instead of the tiny embroidered snake on their chest patches, there was a badger. She'd never seen the boys before, which was odd, because so few children were allowed to attend Hogwarts that she knew them all quite well.

"Who are you?" one of them asked, and Lucie imagined that he was trying to sound intimidating, though his pubescent voice made it rather difficult. She opened her mouth to give him her name, hoping it would assert her station, but then hesitated as an idea occurred to her. She glanced at the parchment, hoping she wasn't making a dire mistake.

"I'm here to see Albus Dumbledore." As soon as the words fell from her lips, the boys instantly relaxed. They lowered their wands, laughing a bit nervously, and proceeded to look at Lucie expectantly. Reluctantly, she let her wand arm fall to her side, but kept a tight grip on the long piece of wood, just in case.

"Why didn't you just say so?" one of the boys asked. "You had us scared you were an intruder."

"This is the time that Professor Dumbledore usually goes to meet with Headmaster Dippet in his office," said the other boy. "We'll most likely find him there. I'm Marcus, by the way. Marcus Burbage." He offered his hand to Lucie, and she took it, shaking it lightly, though she was thoroughly surprised that a young boy would initiate physical contact with her.

"And I'm Jeremiah Cattermole," said the other, shaking hands with Lucie as well. "Just follow us, we'll take you to the Headmaster's office."

Realizing that she had few other options, Lucie nodded and shouldered her rucksack. As Marcus and Jeremiah led her towards the main entrance of the castle, Lucie thought it best not to appear as a threat, and stowed her wand in the waistband of her skirt, close enough that she could get it quickly if she needed to defend herself. Almost as if to make sure they were still there, Lucie reached up and touched the golden device and the ring through her blouse.

They entered the castle, and as Lucie followed Marcus and Jeremiah through the corridors, she marveled at the place. Hogwarts was not as she was accustomed to. In all her time at the place, she'd never seen the portraits look so vibrant, or their occupants so cheerful. She'd never seen so many students running about, their robes all emblazoned with yellow, blue, emerald, or scarlet. This Hogwarts was, in many ways, familiar to her, and yet it was vastly different. With every step she took, Lucie felt the fear and confusion that she had managed to suppress for a few moments grow stronger.

By the time they reached the stone gargoyle, Lucie was once more struggling to hold back tears. This strange Hogwarts seemed like such a happy place, and somehow it was only filling her with dread.

"Password?" asked one of the gargoyles, sounding bored.

"Acromantula," replied Marcus, sounding proud of himself. As the three of them began to ascend the winding stone staircase, he whispered to Jeremiah that his sister, Charity, had overheard the Head Girl saying the password, and told it to him. Lucie, for her part, was trying desperately to stay calm. She removed the golden device from her blouse and cradled the delicate object in her hand, careful not to let Marcus or Jeremiah see it. For all she knew, it could be a dangerous, illegal magical artifact.

In her other hand, she still held the folded parchment. She glanced down at it, as though hoping more words would appear on the surface and explain to her what in the name of Merlin was going on. Just as Lucie thought she would indeed burst into tears, the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a harried-looking man. He was rather portly, with graying hair and a set of oddly crooked teeth. He was, perhaps, three hundred or so years of age. It wasn't terribly old by wizarding standards, but it wasn't exactly young, either.

"Hello, Headmaster," said Jeremiah. "Sorry to bother you, but we've brought a girl who says that she needs to speak with Professor Dumbledore."

"What? Oh, thank you, Mr. Cattermole. I'll take it from here." He shooed the boys away, rather abruptly, Lucie thought, and then turned his stern gaze on her. "Yes, well, Albus and I were just finishing up our daily visit, so you might as well come in." He ushered her into the office, and all the while Lucie was trying to keep her head from spinning.

Dippet—the name was familiar. If she remembered her History of Magic lessons correctly, a man named Armando Dippet had been the Headmaster of Hogwarts from the early twentieth century until 1956, at which time he had been replaced by Albus Dumbledore.

So why on earth was Dippet standing before her now?

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Lucie looked around the office, her eyes landing on the only other occupant. It was another man, younger than Dippet, with long, auburn hair and a matching beard. Immediately, Lucie knew that this man was the famous Dumbledore, but his appearance only served to frighten her further. No doubt, if she tried to talk now, the only sound she would be able to produce would be a sob.

In her years at school, they had been shown pictures of Dumbledore's corpse, but the man before her was nothing like the wizened, broken body she had seen. He was very much alive, and his eyes were the bluest, most piercing eyes she had ever seen. They made her feel as though he was looking into her very soul, and could see all of her secrets.

Lucie was rapidly putting the pieces together in her mind, but before she could bring herself to realize the terrifying reality, Dippet spoke again.

"What is your name girl?" he demanded, quite harshly.

"I—I...My name is Lucie Selwyn, sir." Lucie inwardly cursed herself for stumbling over her words. A lady was always meant to be sure of herself.

"Selwyn, eh?" said Dippet gruffly. "An old pureblood name, if I'm not mistaken. As far as I am aware, for generations now the Selwyn family has chosen to teach their children at home. What, may I ask, are you doing at my school?"

"Armando," said another voice, just as Lucie opened her mouth. She looked to Dumbledore in surprise. She hadn't expected him to have such a gentle voice. "Clearly the girl is quite frightened, and she __did __come to see me. Would you mind terribly if we spoke alone?"

Dippet eventually did leave the office a few minutes later, albeit grudgingly, and muttering quite a bit under his breath. When Lucie found herself alone with Dumbledore, she felt her fear increasing to dangerous levels, and began to think she might faint. Wordlessly, and with a trembling hand, she held out the parchment to Dumbledore. Eyes twinkling, he took it.

Though Lucie held her breath in anticipation, nothing happened as Dumbledore put a finger to the seal. She watched as he broke it without any adverse effects, and then they both stood in agonizing silence for a few moments as he read over whatever was written on it.

Finally, when he had finished, Dumbledore crossed to the fire and tossed the parchment on. Lucie found herself wanting to stop him, but bit her tongue. Dumbledore was sure to tell her.

It seemed, though, that she was mistaken. Though she looked at Dumbledore expectantly, he simply gazed at her pleasantly, as though they'd known each other for years. At last, more to break the silence than anything, Lucie spoke.

"Excuse me, sir, but...what was in the note?"

His eyes regained that twinkle that made Lucie sure that he knew more than he was letting on. "I am sure that you will come to those answers in time, my dear. What I __can __tell you is that the writer of the message wishes for you to be a student here."

"At Hogwarts? But—but I __am __a student here, even though...this isn't the Hogwarts I know."

Something like sadness flashed through Dumbledore's eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "No, I'm afraid it is not. Tell me, Miss Selwyn, do you know what is around your neck?"

Lucie glanced down at the golden device, which she had forgotten was no longer hidden in her blouse. She supplied no answer, so Dumbledore continued.

"It is called a Time-Turner."

Lucie's eyes widened, and though she did not know exactly the purpose of the device, the name alone was enough to give her strong suspicions. "Do you mean to say, sir...?" She trailed off uncertainly, not quite wanting to hear the answer.

"That you have traveled back in time? Yes, that seems to be the case." Dumbledore said this lightly, almost airily, as if discussing the weather over tea and crumpets, rather than the terrible crime Lucie had committed by running away from her wedding. His slight smile unnerved her, but she tried her best to ignore it.

"Back in time?" she managed to choke out. "I—I...sir, this is..."

"Quite shocking? Yes, indeed."

Lucie steeled herself, trying to keep the panic from her eyes. It wouldn't do for her to seem as though she were anything less than completely composed. Then, more steadily and with more conviction that she thought herself capable of in that moment, Lucie asked the one question that could shatter her world forever.

"How far, sir? How far have I traveled back in time? What year is it?"

At this, Dumbledore sobered a bit. "It is September the Second, 1943."

Lucie's breath caught, and she stared at Dumbledore incredulously for a moment before finally working up the nerve to speak again. "What exactly am I doing here, sir?"

"As I said before, Miss Selwyn, you will come to all of the answers you seek in good time. What is the saying? Ah, yes. All good things come to those who wait." Lucie wanted to tell him that she'd never heard such a saying before, but before she could respond, Dumbledore began to speak again. "Now, if you are to enter the—how old are you, exactly, my dear?"

"Sixteen today, sir."

"Ah, happy birthday, then. Now, as I was saying, if you are to enter the sixth year class, you'll need to be sorted into a House, and we will need to give you something to tell your peers about where you came from."

Lucie's brow knitted together in confusion. "I don't know what you mean by a 'House', sir. In my time, only purebloods are allowed into Hogwarts, and there are so few of us that the common room and dormitories in the dungeons are more than enough to accommodate all of us."

The little flash of sadness passed through Dumbledore's eyes again, but Lucie tried to tell herself that she was imagining it. "Yes, well, here we have four houses—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each of the houses have different attributes by which the students are sorted into them."

"Like what, sir?"

"Well, Gryffindors are known for their bravery, Ravenclaws for their intelligence, Hufflepuffs for their loyalty and kindness, and Slytherins for their cunning and ambition. It is of course, a more complicated process, but that is the simple version. Now, as for your backstory—"

"Excuse me, sir, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but why is any of this necessary? Can't I just go home?"

"From what I understand through that note, Miss Selwyn, is that it would be very dangerous for you to return to your own time right now. Don't you agree?"

Lucie wanted to protest, but she knew that returning to the future would only result in her immediate arrest or death, so she nodded resignedly, allowing Dumbledore to resume speaking. A dull ache began to spread through her chest, and she thought of her family, who must be beside themselves with worry—or worse, they might have been punished by the Supreme Ruler for harbouring a supposed traitor. A fresh wave of tears threatening to overtake her, Lucie turned her concentration once more to what Dumbledore was saying.

"Now, Miss Selwyn, you'll have to keep your name, since you already told it to Headmaster Dippet. What shall we say about you? Ah, yes, your parents, fearing for your safety amidst the wars—there is, of course both a wizarding and Muggle war in this time—decided to stop teaching you at home and sent you to Hogwarts to finish out the remainder of your schooling. You have no siblings. Do you think you can remember all of that, Miss Selwyn?"

Lucie nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. Also, I advise that you keep that Time-Turner of yours out of sight. You are quite lucky that the Headmaster didn't catch sight of it. They are very rare and heavily regulated magical artifacts. Take good care of it."

"It's strange, sir. They must no longer exist in my time. I've never even heard of a Time-Turner before."

"Strange, indeed. Now, down to business." Dumbledore had conjured a pair of standard black robes, which Lucie put on over her clothes. Before she realized what was happening, Dumbledore was whisking her down to the Great Hall. As they approached the large room, Lucie heard the sounds of hundreds of chattering people.

__I've never heard the Great Hall be so noisy before__.

Oddly, the thought sent a warm feeling fluttering in her chest. If she weren't still so confused and disoriented, it would have made her smile.

Dumbledore brought her into the Great Hall through the staff entrance, and suddenly Lucie found herself on a raised dais at the front of the Great Hall, the staff table behind her, and four long tables in front of her, each packed with students. __It must be dinner time__, she thought numbly.

When Lucie was fully in sight of the students, a hush fell over them. They all stared openly at her, whispering quietly to one another. Lucie felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but she forced herself, as her parents had always taught her, to stand tall, chin held high, and show no sign of any emotion.

Dumbledore, who had been whispering something to an elderly female professor, suddenly returned to Lucie's side. The old woman hurried into a room just off of the Great Hall, looking thoroughly surprised. Though it was only a few moments until she returned, it seemed like an eternity to Lucie. She couldn't think of anything more agonizing.

Finally, though, the woman re-entered the Great Hall, carrying an old, fraying wizards' hat. Lucie had no idea why Dumbledore sent the old woman to fetch such a wretched-looking thing, but held her tongue.

"Ah, thank you Galatea," said Dumbledore, taking the hat from the woman. He turned to the students, who fell immediately silent. "Students, it gives me great pleasure to welcome a new student here at Hogwarts. Miss Lucie Selwyn—" here he gestured to her "—who has, to this point, been homeschooled, will be joining the sixth year class once she has been sorted. I hope you will all bid her a warm welcome."

The students granted her a warm, if tentative applause, and Dumbledore turned to smile at Lucie. He held the hat out to her, and she realized that he meant for her to put it on her head. Slightly disgusted, Lucie took the old, careworn thing and placed it atop her golden hair. She nearly screamed when a voice sounded in her ear, before she realized with a great deal of shock that the hat was talking to her—inside of her head.

__"Hmm...a curious case, you are. It seems that you have been taught to believe in one way of thinking since birth, though you have doubts about this. You are intelligent...but perhaps Ravenclaw isn't the best fit for you. You are loyal to your family, but you're not a Hufflepuff either... It seems there is only one logical choice, given the circumstances under which you have come here."__

Lucie held her breath, wondering why she felt so nervous.

"SLYTHERIN!"


	3. An Unexpected Beginning

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 3: An Unexpected Beginning****

__Slytherin__.

So that was to be her house. Lucie, not knowing much about any of the houses besides what Dumbledore had told her, remained relatively neutral on the matter. The way things were going, she was sure that Dumbledore would figure out some way to allow her to return to her own time, and remain safe. Even in the few moments she had spent with him, she already got the feeling that he knew more about her situation than she did. It was odd, really, how different he seemed from the man she had learned about in school.

As Lucie removed the old, dilapidated hat from her head, she saw something flash beneath her. Looking down, she realized that her plain black robes were now emblazoned with green, and there was a small snake right above her heart. The robes looked, more or less, like the ones she had always worn. In front of her, one of the tables, at which the students also wore green, began to clap respectfully.

Lucie glanced warily back at Dumbledore, but he merely smiled cheerfully, offering no help whatsoever. With a slight twinge of annoyance, Lucie turned around and stepped down from the dais, making her way quickly over to the table that had clapped for her.

There was an empty seat across from a pretty girl with wavy, light brown hair, and Lucie lowered herself into it, trying not to think too hard about how much she must be blushing. By this point, Dippet had risen from his chair at the center of the staff table and walked to the place that Lucie had just vacated. He began to make a speech, but Lucie was distracted by a tap on her shoulder.

It was the pretty girl with the brown hair, and she smiled widely as Lucie met her gaze. To the girl's left sat a blonde boy, who struck Lucie as oddly familiar.

"I'm Grace Cavanaugh," said the girl. "It's nice to meet you."

"Lucie Selwyn," replied Lucie, though the girl already knew her name.

Grace laughed lightly. "Yes, we heard. This is my boyfriend, Abraxas Malfoy." She gestured to the blonde boy, and Lucie was taken aback. He was, it seemed, related to Scorpius, the boy Lucie had been about to marry. It was no wonder he looked familiar—there was an uncanny resemblance between the two.

__Was the wedding really just this morning? s__he thought, then shook her head a little. __No, of course it wasn't. It's almost eighty years from now. __Lucie looked around the Great Hall, eerily registering that some of the people in the room with her at that moment had been dead as she had walked down the aisle with her father.

Grace was talking again, and Lucie pulled her attention back to the girl. "And this is Eileen Prince," she was saying, gesturing to a thin, wiry sort of girl with dark hair and equally dark eyes to her right. Lucie granted Eileen a smile.

"I've heard of the Selwyn family," said the boy named Abraxas. "They're a very respectable pureblood family, like my own." He paused and smiled at Grace. "The Cavanaughs, though, rival my family in wealth."

Grace returned his smile, and then looked at Eileen. "That may be, but the Prince family are no Muggles, either."

As Lucie gazed at the three people across from her, she was struck with a very sad thought. It wouldn't do to become overly attached to anyone in this timeline, of course. She would never see them again when she returned to her own time, and it seemed very unwise to forge too many connections in a place where she didn't belong. Just as Lucie resolved to remain relatively distant, she thought of how lonely she would be, and that thought frightened her even more. Lucie had never been without someone to keep her company.

__They __are__all pureblood__, she thought. __I suppose it wouldn't be too terrible to form casual friendships with them. I'll just need to be careful not to get too close to them.__

"So, Lucie," said Grace, pulling Lucie from her reverie, "why did you come to Hogwarts so late? We've never had a transfer this late before."

Lucie took a deep breath. This was it—the first of many times when someone would ask her such a question. She had to tread carefully, and make sure she told her backstory the same way each time.

"As Professor Dumbledore said, I was homeschooled until this year, but my parents were starting to get nervous about the wars, so they sent me here to finish my schooling. They thought it would be safer, I suppose." After she had finished her recitation, Lucie felt quite proud of herself. She'd remembered all of the details, without the slightest hesitation.

Grace, Abraxas, and Eileen all nodded politely before turning to the platters in front of them, which had suddenly filled with food. Thankfully, none of them questioned her further, and Lucie was able to eat her meal in relative peace.

As she chewed quietly on her shepherd's pie, Lucie suddenly felt as though she were being watched. Her first instinct was to look towards the staff table, sure that it was just Dumbledore, but he appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the old woman whom he had sent to fetch the Sorting Hat at the beginning of dinner.

Perplexed, Lucie looked around the hall, trying to locate the culprit, but to no avail. Shrugging, she did her best to shake off the feeling, and turned back to her meal.

When dinner had ended, and the leftover food on the platters had disappeared, Lucie rose and began to follow her new friends out of the hall.

"Miss Selwyn!" Lucie turned to see Dumbledore, looking quite triumphant about something, approaching her. She stopped, assuring Grace, Abraxas, and Eileen that it was all right for them to go on without her, and waited for Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir? Is something wrong?" she asked when he had reached her.

"Hmm? Oh—no, Miss Selwyn, not in the slightest. You see, I was just informed that the young lady who was meant to be our female Slytherin prefect this year will not be returning to school this term. Her parents, in fear of Grindelwald's forces, have taken her with them into hiding."

"That's too bad," said Lucie sincerely, wondering why Dumbledore was bothering to tell her this.

"Indeed it is," said the Transfiguration professor, eyes twinkling. "I came to ask if __you __would like to take her place—as the Slytherin prefect, I mean."

Lucie's eyes widened. "__Me__? But—but, sir, you barely know me! Not that I'm not grateful for the offer, of course, but—"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I know it seems sudden, Miss Selwyn, but there is a reason for everything. I prefer to think of it as—how shall I phrase this?—ah, destiny, or fate."

Lucie wanted to say that she did not believe in destiny __or __fate, but thought it unwise, as Dumbledore had just given her a prestigious position of power at the school. "Of course, sir. I would love to take her place."

"Very good, then," said Dumbledore with a smile. "Allow me to introduce you to your fellow prefect. He is waiting for us by the door." Lucie scanned the crowd, eyes coming to rest on a boy her age lingering near the main entrance to the Great Hall.

He was tall and very, very handsome, and Lucie found herself immediately struck by his intense dark eyes.

"Miss Selwyn," Dumbledore said when they had reached the boy, "this is Tom Riddle. Tom, this is Lucie Selwyn. She will be your fellow prefect in Miss Rookwood's absence."

"Of course," Tom Riddle replied with a small nod of his head. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Selwyn." Lucie gazed at him curiously. As he spoke to Dumbledore, he was perfectly composed and polite, but Lucie, who had been raised around falsified charm, could detect the tiniest amount of stiffness in Riddle's tone. It seemed that he liked the Transfiguration professor much less than he was letting on.

The name 'Riddle' was curious as well. She didn't remember it as being a pureblood name—there were only so many—and that was odd, because from what she had seen in Grace, Abraxas, and Eileen, blood purity was rather important in Slytherin.

When Lucie and Tom had been sufficiently introduced to one another, Dumbledore bid them a good night and took his leave. Tom led Lucie out of the Great Hall, offering to accompany her to the Slytherin dormitory.

After a while, Tom Riddle spoke. "I must say, it is rather odd to have a transfer student join us in sixth year. Hogwarts doesn't get many of them at all, and certainly not this late in one's schooling."

"Yes," Lucie replied, keeping her eyes trained ahead of her, "well, my parents have been growing increasingly worried about the wars for some time now. I had a feeling they'd ship me off sooner or later."

"Well, I trust you'll find Hogwarts to your liking," replied Riddle, granting Lucie a dazzling smile.

They kept up their polite small talk all the way to the dormitories, and Lucie found it comically easy. She'd been trained in the art of courteous dribble all her life. She noticed that when Tom Riddle spoke to her, the stiffness in his voice when he'd been talking to Dumbledore was gone. He maintained his polite facade, of course, and his voice was carefully devoid of all emotion, though Lucie was sure that the silky perfection of it would stick in her mind. Tom Riddle was, by all accounts, just like the aristocratic boys she had encountered growing up.

Except for one thing, that is. Tom Riddle was perhaps the handsomest boy she had ever seen, even more than Scorpius (who was widely loved by girls their age), but his robes contrasted with the rest of him. They were well-worn and slightly threadbare, not quite as crisp and pristine as those belonging to the rest of the members of Slytherin house. Lucie couldn't help but wonder if his family had any money at all.

Finally, they had reached the Slytherin common room. Riddle gave the password to the stone wall ("Veritaserum"), and just as they were about to go to their respective dormitories, Lucie felt a long-fingered hand catch her arm. She turned to find Riddle eying her with something like a mixture between curiosity and disdain.

Then, charmingly, he said, "I am sure will we get to know one another very well this year, Miss Selwyn."

The statement sent an inexplicable chill down Lucie's spine, and she had to suppress the urge to shiver. Without another word, Tom Riddle turned on his heel, and was gone.

…

The next morning, Lucie half expected to find herself back in her own bed, realizing that everything that had happened was simply a dream, fueled by anxiety over her wedding. Alas, when she opened her eyes, she was in the emerald-draped dormitories of Slytherin house. Lucie sighed, rising from her bed. When she pulled back her curtains, she found that Grace, Eileen, and the other girls in the room were already up and dressing for the day.

"What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about last night, Lucie?" asked Grace, pulling on her robes.

"He asked me to be a prefect, since the girl who was supposed to do it isn't come back to school." Grace and Eileen both stopped what they were doing, pausing to stare open-mouthed at Lucie.

"Prefect?" asked Eileen. "You just got here! That's amazing, Lucie. Headmaster Dippet must have high hopes for you." Lucie smiled, not bothering to say that Dippet probably had nothing to do with the decision. She changed out of her pajamas, dressing herself in her new robes.

"He also introduced me to Tom Riddle," she said finally as she began to lace up her shoes. By this time, all of the other girls in the room had gone down to the common room, leaving Lucie, Grace, and Eileen by themselves.

"What did you talk about?" asked Grace.

Lucie shrugged. "Not much. Just senseless small talk, really."

"Tom Riddle has got to be the most attractive boy in this school," said Eileen, gazing dreamily somewhere past Lucie. "He's certainly the only one I've ever taken a liking to."

Grace scoffed. "Yes, Eileen, but have you heard the rumors? Despite what he tells people, he's not pureblood—I mean, he doesn't have a pureblood name, after all—and he was raised in an orphanage. No money at all."

Eileen offered no retort, and Lucie followed Grace and Eileen down into the common room, where Abraxas was waiting for them. The four of them walked down to the Great Hall, and Lucie allowed herself to become immersed in their conversation about classes they would be taking that day.

Once more, as Lucie ate her breakfast, she felt the sensation of being watched. This time, when she looked up, gaze traveling to the other end of the Slytherin table, she locked eyes with none other than Tom Riddle. Realizing that he was the one who had been staring at her the night before, Lucie's face began to turn a hideous shade of magenta.

Thankfully, she was then distracted by the old woman from the previous night (she had been identified by Eileen as Galatea Merrythought, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor), who had come to give Lucie her timetable.

She looked it over and saw that Charms, her favorite subject, was directly after breakfast, with the Ravenclaws. When breakfast ended, Lucie followed her friends out of the Great Hall, and was careful to keep behind them as they made their way to the Charms classroom, so as not to make it obvious that she already knew her way around the castle.

When they entered the classroom, the first thing that Lucie noticed was that Tom Riddle was already there. He was sitting alone, just as she suspected he would be, and she certainly had no intention of changing that. As she lowered herself into a chair beside Eileen, Lucie thought that Tom Riddle, for all his charm, made her rather uncomfortable. He could be impeccably polite one second and then the next, when he thought no one was looking, fix her with an intense stare that she had never seen the likes of.

Before her thoughts could progress any further, Lucie forced them to a halt and mentally berated herself. She rationalized that she was over-thinking things, and it wouldn't do to be rude to Riddle, especially since they would have prefect duties together.

From that point, the day passed rather quickly, and Lucie found herself quite astonished by how different the Hogwarts of 1943 was from the Hogwarts of 2022. In her time, all of the lessons, no matter how objective they claimed to be, had an undercurrent of how important it was to worship and serve the Supreme Ruler, and students were only taught enough magic to make them useful to the Dark Lord, not to further their own ambitions.

During History of Magic, while the ghostly Professor Binns was boring all of his students to the point of sleep, Lucie found herself remembering something that had happened with her sister, back when Lucie herself had only been in second year.

__"Lucie, you would have loved it," said Anastasia, her voice laced with girlish amusement.__

__"It was one of the best lessons we've ever had!" said one of Anastasia's friends, coming to sit beside Lucie. "They brought in some Mudblood prisoners, and we got to use them to test out the poisons and Hallucination Draughts we've been working with." The girl said this as though she'd never done something so exciting.__

__"There's nothing like real hands-on application," said another of the friends. All of the girls began to giggle, and Lucie, catching Anastasia's eye, laughed right along with them. She felt an odd sort of disgust at what the girls were telling her, but tried her hardest to ignore it and find the humor in the situation.__

Lucie shook her head slightly, trying to clear it of the memory. Despite what Lucie had thought at the time, Anastasia and her friends hadn't done anything wrong. __Of course __the Mudblood prisoners deserved it, because the Supreme Ruler deemed it so. Wasn't that what she had always been taught?

After the last class of the day, Lucie went down to dinner with Grace, Abraxas, and Eileen. They had left History of Magic a bit late, because Grace had lost track of her favorite quill, and they'd all had to spend ten minutes helping her find it. When the precious writing utensil had been recovered, they'd made their way down to the Great Hall to find that the evening meal had already begun.

The middle of the table, where they usually sat, was filled, and so the four friends were forced to sit nearer to the end. With a prick of unease, Lucie found herself not far away from Tom Riddle. If he wanted to, he could lean over and talk to her without disturbing anyone.

Lucie, forgetting her manners entirely, openly observed him while she ate. For a time, she didn't think that Riddle noticed, but eventually he turned to her, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips, and asked her politely what she was staring at.

Lucie felt a bit of panic settle in her chest. "I—you just look quite like a neighbour I used to have, that's all." Even as it left her mouth, Lucie knew how pitiful the lie was. Riddle quirked an eyebrow skeptically, but thankfully said nothing more before turning back to his own food.

Face flushed, Lucie turned back to her friends, vigorously determined to include herself in their conversation.

"So that arrogant Gryffindor, Charlus Potter," Abraxas was saying, "was showing off in Defense Against the Dark Arts, as usual. Of course Professor Merrythought was fawning over him. __My __attempt at a Patronus was far better than __Potter's__, but Merrythought gave ten points to Gryffindor anyway." As Abraxas continued to complain, Lucie vaguely realized that this boy Charlus must be related to Harry Potter, the coward who had been defeated by the Supreme Ruler in the Second Wizarding War.

Eileen smirked. "Charlus has every right to show off, as good-looking as he is."

Grace laughed and kissed a sulking Abraxas on the cheek. "Potter isn't nearly as handsome as you, darling." This coaxed a smile from Abraxas, who placed a hand over his girlfriend's.

After dinner, Lucie told her friends to go on to the common room without her, as she wanted to go to the library to study a bit. Eileen offered to walk her there, thinking that Lucie was still unfamiliar with the castle, but Lucie waved her away.

"I'm sure I can manage to find it, and if not, I'll just ask one of the portraits."

Finally alone, Lucie made her way to the library. She found, upon arrival, that it too was vastly different from her own time. In this Hogwarts, there were thousands upon thousands of books, covering every magical topic that one could think of. In the Hogwarts that Lucie had left behind, a great number of the books before her had been outlawed, every copy of them burned with Fiendfyre.

There were a few other students in the library, but Lucie eventually found a quiet corner where she could study in peace. The time passed quickly as she went through book after book, writing notes down here and there, and all of the other students began to leave, one by one. Lucie stayed in her corner for nearly two hours. When she finally glanced up at the clock on the wall, she realized that it was almost time for curfew.

Gathering her things hurriedly, she made to leave the room. She was almost to the door when something appeared in her path, and couldn't come to a stop before she ran directly into it.

With a yelp, Lucie was thrown off balance, her books flying every which way. She fell hard to the ground, landing on her behind. Looking up, Lucie found herself face-to-face with a surprised-looking boy of about her age. For a moment, she was disoriented, but then quickly collected herself, remembering that it is not proper for a lady to appear flustered.

The boy stretched out a pale hand, and Lucie took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. Wordlessly, he crouched down and began to pick up her books. Lucie hurried to help him, and in a few moments they had righted all of her things.

"I'm terribly sorry about that," she said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going."

The boy grinned shyly. "It was my fault, really. I'm sorry." Lucie took a moment to appraise him. He was tall and lanky, with dark brown hair, caramel eyes, and a kind face. The boy gazed back at her, just as curiously.

"Well, I should really be going," said Lucie, and before he could say another word, she all but ran from the library, feeling his eyes on her back all the way out of the room.

As Lucie walked, she tried to fathom why she felt so jittery. It wasn't a bad feeling, she surmised, but it was foreign to her nonetheless.

A short distance away from the Slytherin common room, Lucie heard two voices, one male and one female, drifting out into the corridor from an empty classroom. Thinking that it was perhaps just a bickering couple, Lucie resolved to walk by the slightly open door, and give no more thought to the matter. Just as she came within hearing range of the conversation, though, she recognized the male voice as belonging to Tom Riddle.

Lucie stopped dead in her tracks. Admittedly, her curiosity was piqued, and she did something she had never done before—eavesdrop.

"You had promised me this would not happen," said Tom to his companion, sounding quite calm. "It is a pity that you could not keep your word."

"Tom, please, I'm sorry! Please, don't do this," said the girl, sounding terrified. Lucie realized that it was Walburga Black, one of her roommates. She had no idea that Walburga even __knew __Riddle.

"It seems I don't have a choice in the matter," replied Tom. "It has to be done."

"__Lucie__!" For one wild second, Lucie feared she had been caught. "__Lucie, what have I taught you about eavesdropping? It is __never __befitting of a lady of breeding!" __With a jolt, Lucie realized that the voice was in her head, and that it belonged to her mother. It was as though Drusilla was right next to her, giving her youngest daughter yet another lesson on what it meant to be a fine young lady.

Lucie felt suddenly ashamed of herself, for reasons she could not explain. Riddle was having an argument with his girlfriend, that was all, and there she was, listening in like it was any of her business! Face reddening for what felt like the thousandth time that day, Lucie turned away from the classroom and hurried on towards the common room.


	4. A Strange Boy

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 4: A Strange Boy****

Lucie's smile could have lit up the whole garden as she reached the end of the aisle. She looked positively radiant, and she knew that this was the moment she'd been waiting her whole life for. Finally, all of her dreams were coming true. She turned to look at Scorpius, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

But there was disgust in his eyes, so strong that the force of it hit Lucie like a slap. In all the years she'd known him, Scorpius had never gazed upon her with anything less than adoration. __No one __had looked at her with anything less than the quiet pride that a beautiful, pureblooded young lady deserved.

"We all know who you are, Lucie," said Scorpius, sounding so unlike himself that Lucie almost didn't realize he was the one who had spoken.

"It's me, Scorpius! I'm exactly who I've always been! I'm going to be your wife!" Lucie gripped the front of his suit jacket desperately, but Scorpius pushed her roughly away, causing her to stumble and nearly fall. Lucie felt a sob building in her throat, but she pushed it down, trying to work up the nerve to speak again.

"You're a traitor, Lucie," Scorpius spat. "A liar. You might as well be a Mudblood."

Lucie's mouth fell open in shock, but before she could say any more, there was a loud crack as Scorpius Disapparated. Their wedding bands clattered to the ground where he had stood. Lucie lunged forward to retrieve them, horrified that such sacred rings had been allowed to touch the ground, but suddenly found herself pitching forward, unable to balance.

She crashed roughly into the wood of the dais, unable to even soften the blow with her hands. Looking down, Lucie felt horror spread through her like poison. Her wedding dress was gone, replaced with the ugly, demeaning uniform of the Mudblood slaves. She had fallen because of the chain holding her ankles together.

"I see the girl has found her place," came a snarling voice from above Lucie. She craned her neck upward to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing over her, with the Supreme Ruler by her side. The latter's inhuman face was so enraged that Lucie feared the mere sight of it would make her pass out.

Then, in his high, cold voice, he said the two words that Lucie had hoped never to hear: "Kill her."

Lucie opened her mouth to protest, to tell her master that she was a loyal servant, to scream, __anything__, but found that she could produce no sound. No matter how hard she tried, her voice was simply __gone__.

Bellatrix laughed viciously. "Traitors may not speak in the presence of the Supreme Ruler. Prepare to die, girl." As Bellatrix raised her wand, every fiber in Lucie's being screamed for her to run, but she was frozen to the stop, eyes open wide in terror, staring her death in the face. "__Avada Kedavara!"__

And then, all was darkness.

…

Lucie shot up in bed, panting. Every inch of her body was drenched in a cold sweat, and for a moment, she had no idea where she was. Slowly, her surroundings drifted back into focus, and she realized that Grace and Eileen were leaning over her, wearing identical expressions of worry and surprise.

Still frightened and confused, Lucie gazed around, taking in the other girls in their room. Some of them looked mildly concerned, while others just appeared to be annoyed at having been roused. Thankfully, none of them said anything. Lucie vaguely registered that one of the girls, Walburga Black, was not present.

"Lucie, thank Merlin you're awake!" said Grace, pulling Lucie's attention back to her. "You were screaming in your sleep!"

"I was?" Lucie asked numbly, not really paying the other girl much mind.

Eileen nodded. "We've been trying to wake you up for nearly ten minutes!"

Grace lowered her voice slightly. "You were saying something about Mudbloods."

One of the other girls in the room—Lucie believed her name was Lucretia—let out a barking laugh, startling the still-shaken Lucie. "Well, no wonder," the girl said. "They're repulsive enough to give anyone nightmares."

Despite herself, Lucie laughed a bit at the rude joke. It was more out of habit than anything, but she still felt a slight twinge of guilt as the noise escaped her throat.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you all," Lucie said after a moment.

Bit by bit, the girls drifted away from her, leaving Lucie alone with her thoughts. She drew the curtains around her bed and cast a Silencing Charm. She didn't think she'd be able to fall back asleep, but just in case, she didn't want to test the patience of her roommates.

Hours later, Lucie hadn't gotten any more sleep, and it was nearly time for breakfast. She dressed slowly, keeping the curtains closed around her to avoid Grace and Eileen's questioning gazes. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to put the nightmare from her mind. It had seemed so real, so excruciatingly visceral, that she wasn't entirely certain she __hadn't __been killed.

Scorpius' cold expression flashed through her mind, and Lucie had to suppress a shiver. The Scorpius she knew had always been kind and gentlemanly—shy, even—but the Scorpius from her dream had been cruel, almost frightening.

More terrifying, though, was Bellatrix Lestrange. The woman had been about to kill her mercilessly, showing no sign of hesitation. Even thinking about it was enough to make Lucie want to hyperventilate. The vision had only served to remind Lucie that, though she certainly had the means—the Time-Turner was tucked safely inside her blouse—she could not go home. All that would await her at the Selwyn estate in 2022 would be certain death.

At the thought of her home, Lucie was painfully reminded of how much she missed her family, and her heart ached. __I'll go talk to Dumbledore, __she thought. __He'll be able to tell me when it's safe to go back to my own time.__

Feeling slightly reassured, Lucie went down to the common room. Grace, Abraxas, and Eileen were there waiting for her, and Lucie could tell by Abraxas' slightly wary expression that the girls had told him about Lucie's nightmare. Plastering a smile on her face, she went over to her friends, trying to look as though nothing was the matter.

"So," Grace began slowly, as though testing if Lucie was feeling up to normal conversation, "I noticed that Walburga Black never came back to the dormitory last night. Do either of you know where she was?" Lucie and Eileen shook their heads.

"Actually, I heard something," said Abraxas. "Tom Riddle came back late last night, and when Cygnus Black asked him what had kept him out, Riddle said that he'd had to take Walburga to the hospital wing."

Grace frowned, little lines appearing on her forehead. "What happened to her?"

Abraxas shrugged, looking as though he was already bored with the topic. "Riddle didn't say."

Lucie's brow furrowed. She was sure that she'd heard Riddle and Walburga having an argument the night before. He wouldn't have hurt her, right? Riddle was a perfect gentleman. Before she could say anything on the matter, her friends had already begun to leave for breakfast. Wordlessly, Lucie followed them, but she couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

When they reached the Great Hall, Lucie instinctively scanned the crowd for Riddle, but he was nowhere to be seen. This bothered her more than it should have, but Lucie shook it off as simple worry that things had gotten out of hand between him and Walburga.

Breakfast was, as usual, a quick affair. Lucie, still shaken, found that she wasn't feeling too hungry. Every time she looked into a goblet of pumpkin juice, it was as though Bellatrix's cold face was staring back at her. She'd nearly choked twice.

Looking at her timetable, Lucie noticed that their first class of the morning would be Transfiguration, and they had it with the Hufflepuffs. If she left right away, she could get to class early and have her chat with Dumbledore.

"I've got to ask Professor Dumbledore a few things," she told her friends, excusing herself from the table. "I'll see you all in class." Taking their mumblings as affirmation, Lucie waved goodbye to Grace, Eileen, and Abraxas, and hurried out of the Hall.

Once she was hurrying up the Grand Staircase towards the Transfiguration Wing, Lucie felt slightly better. If anyone could reassure her, it would be Dumbledore. He'd tell her that everything would be all right, he'd get it all straightened out, and she'd be home in no time. Lucie had all but forgotten about the note, the one Dumbledore had burned, but it found its way back into her memory just then.

What could have been on it? Well—for one thing, whoever had written it (the hooded figure who had saved her at the wedding was Lucie's best guess) had wanted her to become a student in the 1943 Hogwarts.

But __why__? That was the question that had been plaguing Lucie since she had first been sorted into Slytherin. This place—enchanting though it was—was not her home. Her family wasn't here, her friends weren't here—her whole life was somewhere else. And yet, impossibly, Dumbledore expected her to stay in the wrong time indefinitely, waiting until she "came to the answers". It was infuriating.

Wrapped up in her thoughts as she was, Lucie wasn't paying particularly close attention as she rounded the next corner. Suddenly, a talk, dark object was blocking her path, and she ran headlong into it. For the second time that week, Lucie was thrown back onto her behind, flailing about for balance in the most un-ladylike fashion imaginable.

And then, also for the second time, she looked up into the kind face of a brown-haired boy her age. Cheeks flushing in humiliation, Lucie realized that it was the same Hufflepuff boy from the library the previous night—and she'd run straight into him, __again__.

"Oh!" she said softly, ignoring his outstretched hand and scrambling to her feet. "I'm so sorry!"

The boy smiled. "It seems we've been running into each other quite a lot lately, don't you think?" At first, Lucie was taken aback by his boldness, but then she realized, with no small measure of surprise, that he was teasing her. Her eyebrows shot up, disappearing into her hairline. She'd never been teased by anyone except Anastasia and Mortimer, and even then it was very tame. This boy was outright making fun of her, as though she was a clumsy little girl.

Lucie felt that she should have been enraged, but oddly enough, she felt herself begin to smile.

"Yes, that seems to be the case," she answered finally. "Terribly sorry about that."

"Not to worry," said the boy. "I'm Edwin, by the way. Edwin Bones." He held out a hand, and Lucie shook it, grinning shyly. His surname sounded vaguely familiar to her, and she realized that there was a girl in her dormitory by the name 'Bones'. __Must be a relative of his, __she thought.

"I'm Lucie Selwyn. But, given the show they made of my Sorting, you probably already knew that."

The boy laughed, and Lucie found the sound oddly charming. "Yes, I'm quite aware of who you are. Where are you off to in such a hurry, Miss Selwyn?"

"Yes, I'd like to know that too."

Lucie whirled around at the new voice, and found herself face-to-face with Tom Riddle. He looked, as always, perfect, despite her suspicions that he hadn't gotten much sleep. He glanced over Lucie's shoulder at Edwin, and his eyes narrowed just the barest amount. If Lucie hadn't been watching his face carefully for any show of emotion, she was sure she would have missed it.

Riddle looked back at her expectantly, and Lucie remembered suddenly that he'd asked her a question. "Erm—I'm on my way to see Professor Dumbledore, actually. I've got to, um, ask him a few questions about the class." The last part was, of course, a lie, but she couldn't very well tell the truth.

"Allow me to escort you," Riddle said smoothly, stepping up to her side and looking at Edwin as though dismissing him.

Inexplicably, Lucie felt her heart rate increase. "Oh, no, really, that's all right—"

"I insist," interrupted Riddle. "It's the least I can do as your fellow prefect—you are new to the castle, after all." Lucie paled, terrified at the thought of being left alone with the boy she was almost certain had done something to Walburga.

"I will go with you as well," spoke up Edwin, fixing Riddle with a calm stare. "I've got to speak to Professor Dumbledore myself, actually."

Lucie saw Riddle's jaw clench almost imperceptibly, but then it was gone, and he looked perfectly neutral once more. Relief flooded through her at Edwin's words, and she felt a rush of gratitude for the boy. Perhaps she __could __make good friends in 1943.

With a stiff nod, Riddle set off, leading the way to the Transfiguration classroom. Edwin followed close behind, with Lucie bringing up the rear. It was a pity she wouldn't get to talk to Dumbledore about her predicament just then—but no matter, she'd have plenty of opportunities for that later.

When they reached the classroom, Riddle knocked sharply three times on the door. A quiet voice beckoned for them to enter, and they filed into the large room. Dumbledore sat behind a rather cluttered desk, the surface all covered in parchment and tiny, delicate objects that were emitting a strange whirring sound.

"Ah!" Dumbledore said, looking as though he'd been expecting them. "Mr. Riddle, Mr. Bones, Miss Selwyn, come in, come in! What can I help you with?"

"I was simply escorting Miss Selwyn to class, sir," said Riddle, that same tone of dislike just barely colouring his words. "She and Mr. Bones have a few questions for you, I believe." Saying nothing further, Riddle turned and made his way to the desks, choosing one and settling into it. As he spread out his materials for class, he looked the picture of a perfect student.

Edwin gestured to Lucie. "After you, Miss Selwyn."

"Thank you," she replied, blushing a little. "I was just wondering, sir, if there are any materials you need to give me before my first day of your class, since I missed the actual first day."

Dumbledore smiled, fixing Lucie with his piercing gaze, and she was sure he knew that she was lying. "Some parchment and a quill should suffice, Miss Selwyn, but I appreciate your efforts. If you are in need of any, I have some extra in the bottom left drawer of my desk. Now, Mr. Bones, you wished to speak to me as well?' Dumbledore rose from his chair and crossed over to Edwin, leaving his desk free and clear for Lucie.

As she searched for the parchment, Lucie caught bits and pieces of their conversation. It appeared to be about the lesson that day, which would focus on the limitations of Transfiguration, such as the Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Lucie, who had been taught such material before, groaned inwardly.

When the other students arrived, Lucie had already taken her seat. Eileen slid in next to her, looking quite disturbed about something.

"What is it, Eileen?" Lucie whispered.

Eileen looked shocked, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Were you in here alone with the Bones boy?" she asked, keeping her voice low as well. Lucie raised an eyebrow, glancing furtively over at Edwin.

"Well, Dumbledore and Riddle were here as well," she said. "But I spoke to Edwin alone in the corridor for a bit." Eileen looked as though her eyes would pop out of her head, and Lucie felt a twinge of annoyance.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, none-too-gently.

"Lucie, you don't know?" Eileen looked stricken. She pointed to two pretty girls sitting together near the front of the room. Lucie recognized one of them as Lucretia Black, from their dormitory, and another of their roommates, though she didn't know the second girl's name. "You see those two girls over there? That's Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones—Edwin Bones' twin sister."

"And?" Lucie prompted impatiently.

Eileen lowered her voice conspiratorially. "In our first year, Eponine—lovely girl, really—was kind enough to warn us all about her brother. He's...troubled, you see. An odd sort. Anyway, in fourth year, he tried to assault Lucretia! Can you believe it?"

Shocked, Lucie looked over at Edwin, the boy who had noticed her fear of Tom Riddle and all but protected her. Could she believe it? No, she wasn't sure she could.

…

Later that night, on her way to prefect duty, Lucie passed by the library. As she reached the door, she paused, torn. There was every chance that Edwin would be there, and she could question him about what Eileen had said. On the other hand, if the accusations were true, did Lucie really want to risk provoking him?

__You're being silly__, she reprimanded. __Just go in. He might not even be there.__

Alas, he was, and he was sitting alone, just as he'd been the night before. Previously, his solitude hadn't seemed so odd to Lucie, but in light of her conversation with Eileen, it was slightly more suspicious. Cautiously, she made her way over to the table where he sat, and settled herself in the chair across from his.

Edwin looked up, a smile ghosting across his face when he saw Lucie. Then, however, he seemed to notice her wary expression, and the smile faded away as quickly as it had come.

"So," he said, sounding resigned, "I suppose you've heard the things people say about me?"

"No," Lucie replied flatly. "Of course not." She knew, even without looking at him, that Edwin did not believe her. After a moment of tense silence she conceded, sighing. "Oh, all right then. Look, I just want to hear from you if the rumors are true, and whatever answer you give me, I'll believe you."

Now it was Edwin's turn to look shocked. "You will? But...why?"

The corner's of Lucie mouth twitched. "You saved me from having to spend alone time with Tom Riddle. I owe you one after that."

Edwin laughed. "I see. Well, allow me to explain, then—my sister, Eponine, has always hated me. Ever since we were little children. She was always trying to find ways to undermine me in front of our parents. When we came to Hogwarts, and she met Lucretia Black, that only made everything worse."

"How do you mean?" asked Lucie.

Here, Edwin looked quite sad, and Lucie had to resist the urge to reach out and take his hand. "They made up rumors about me, just because they thought it was fun. In all my years here, I've never really had any friends, because Eponine and Lucretia scared all of the other students away from me by telling them everything you heard about me—and more."

"That's awful," said Lucie, genuine disgust for the two girls blossoming in her chest. She smiled at Edwin, trying to look reassuring. "Well __I __knew that you seemed too nice to have done any of those things, and you know what?"

"What?" Edwin asked, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I'd like to be your friend, and I don't care what your sister or Lucretia have to say about it. Would you like to be friends with me, Edwin?"

At this, he did smile. "I'd like nothing more, Lucie."

…

When Lucie arrived in the prefects' common room, it was deserted except for one tall figure folded into an armchair. Lucie's heart began to pound nervously at the sight of Tom Riddle, but he looked relatively at ease. She didn't see much reason that she should end up like Walburga unless she angered him.

"Hello, Mr. Riddle," she greeted, trying to sound as warm as possible.

"Good evening, Miss Selwyn," he returned, rising from his chair. At his full height, he was a great deal taller than Lucie, and this only served to make him more intimidating. "Have you enjoyed your first two days here at Hogwarts?"

He was testing her, that much Lucie was sure of. Certainly, Tom Riddle was smart enough to know that her 'backstory' was a load of codswallop, and now he wanted to see how much she would give away. Well, Lucie Selwyn had been raised a proper lady, and no boy was going to leave her tongue-tied. She'd show him just how masterful in the art of conversation she truly was.

"It's a very beautiful place," she answered. "Shall we go on our patrol?"

So they set off, the air between them tense as they conversed, each one trying to bait the other into letting something slip.

"Are you and Mr. Bones friends, Miss Selwyn?" Riddle asked.

"Yes, in fact we are," she said, using her most polite tone. "He's a very sweet boy."

Riddle's eyes flashed. "Well, it is certainly noble of you to say so. The word around the castle is that he is quite odd."

"Oh, no, not really. He's quite kind, actually." Lucie smiled dazzlingly. "Speaking of nobility, though, Mr. Riddle, I hear that you took it upon yourself to bring an injured Walburga Black to the hospital wing last night. That was quite generous of you."

There. Lucie caught just the slightest tightening of Riddle's jaw before it was gone again. She allowed herself to feel momentarily triumphant before she continued to speak.

"Do you have any idea what happened to her, Mr. Riddle?"

"Not in the slightest," Riddle answered smoothly, his tone not betraying even a hint of emotion. "I was walking back to the dormitory when I heard noises of distress from inside an empty classroom. When I investigated, I found Miss Black there. I had no choice but to bring her to the hospital wing, of course."

Lucie felt impressed despite herself. Riddle was certainly an outstanding actor. As he spoke about finding Walburga, he'd injected just the right amount of concern and surprise into his tone.

"Well, as I said, that's very noble of you, Mr. Riddle." __Too bad it's all a lie, __she added silently.

Thankfully, the rest of their patrol passed without too much incident. At the end of it, Riddle said that he had some business to attend to—Lucie didn't even want to think about what that might entail—and thus wouldn't be able to escort her back to the common room. Lucie assured him that it was quite all right (more than he knew), and she'd certainly be able to manage on her own.

As she walked, Lucie reflected on her conversation with the mysterious boy. She was almost certain that he realized that she was on to his lies—and yet, he'd told them anyway. What was he playing at? Perhaps he thought she was stupid enough that he could confuse her into believing him.

By the time Lucie finally reached the common room, her head hurt. She needed to stop thinking about Riddle so much; it surely wasn't healthy for her.

As luck would have it, the second she entered the room, there was something to distract her from her thoughts. Grace and Eileen were huddled together near the fireplace, looking as though someone had just died. Anxiety flared up in Lucie the second they caught her eye, and for a moment her mind went wild, envisioning scenario after horrible scenario—all of which ended in Lucie's secret having been found out.

As cautiously as she dared, Lucie approached her friends. "Grace, Eileen? Is something that matter?"

Eileen looked over at Lucie, and for the first time she noticed that the other girl's eyes were rimmed with red. She'd clearly been crying, though for what reason, Lucie couldn't fathom.

"Lucie!" Eileen cried, taking a step towards her. "Thank Merlin you're here! We thought something might have happened to you!"

"Happened to me?" An image of Riddle's face flashed through Lucie's thoughts, but she pushed it away. "Why would you think that?"

Grace, who had remained slightly more stoic than Eileen, suddenly looked rather grave. "So you don't know, then? Oh, Lucie..." She trailed off, looking as though she might start to weep as well. "Come up to the dormitory. We have something to show you."

Without any further explanation, Grace and Eileen turned and began to ascend the stairs to their dormitory. Lucie followed, keeping silent, though her mind was screaming. She had a small idea of what her friends wanted to show her, and if her suspicions proved true, it was bound to be gruesome.

When they opened the door, the first thing Lucie saw was Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones huddled around Walburga Black's bed. Vaguely, Lucie remembered that Lucretia and Walburga were cousins, and she felt slightly sick to her stomach.

Then, however, all thoughts were wiped from her mind as she caught sight of the girl in the bed.

The once-beautiful Walburga was almost unrecognizable. Her face and arms were covered in angry red gashes, some of which were still bleeding. Lucretia held a small cloth, carefully wiping away the rogue droplets of blood. Lucie's stomach twisted as she looked at the girl, and it was all she could do not to vomit right there on the floor.

"Lucretia, do you have __any __idea what happened?" asked Eileen, a fresh wave of tears rolling down her cheeks.

Lucretia glanced up, catching Lucie's gaze. Something like a warning flashed through her eyes, and Lucie was taken aback. It was almost as though Lucretia was telling her to keep quiet. Then the moment was over, and Lucretia glanced over at her friend.

Eponine's eyes hardened. "I know," she said. "It was my lunatic brother."

Suddenly, everything made sense, and Lucie's hands began to shake in anger. Eileen, the one who had warned her about Edwin in the first place, was crying because she thought he had done something awful to Lucie as well. Lucretia and Eponine—Lucie had to resist the urge to hex them both—must have known that Tom Riddle was the one who actually cursed Walburga, but for some reason, they were blaming Edwin (the easy target) to take all suspicion away from Riddle.

"No, it wasn't," Lucie said, struggling to keep her voice even. All heads in the room snapped to her, and Lucie intentionally avoided meeting Grace or Eileen's gazes. She kept her eyes trained on Eponine, who was staring at her with one eyebrow cocked, as though challenging her.

"Are you __defending __that maniac?" snarled Lucretia.

"Yes, Lucie, what's gotten into you?" asked Grace, latching onto Lucie's arm. "Just look at what he did to poor Walburga!"

"Edwin didn't do it!" Lucie shouted. "He and I are __friends—__yes, you heard me, Eileen!—and I know he'd never do something like this." She paused, shooting a glare at Lucreita and Eponine. "And I think that you two know exactly who the real culprit is. Don't worry, I won't tell, but I won't stand here and listen to you falsely accuse Edwin, either!"

Turning on her heel, Lucie made to storm out of the room, but Grace caught her arm. "Lucie, what are you __doing__? Edwin Bones is __not __your friend! We are—me, Abraxas, and Eileen!"

Lucie pulled her arm roughly out of Grace's grasp. "Oh, really? If you were my friends, you wouldn't be standing here, hanging on __their __every word! You'd believe me!" With that, Lucie turned and ran from the dormitory, not even daring to look back.

Only when she was safely in the common room did Lucie stop and allow herself to think. What had gotten into her? She knew nothing about Edwin, and if there was one thing she had learned growing up, it was not to give her trust away freely. For all she knew, he __could __be unhinged, and if she befriended him, she was only putting herself in danger. It wasn't too late to go back up the stairs and apologize to the girls.

But—no. The other thing her parents had taught her was that a proper lady did not admit her shortcomings. Besides, Edwin wasn't the real danger.

Tom Riddle was.

A shudder went through Lucie as she thought of him. She'd never been more afraid—or more in awe—of someone in her life, other than the Supreme Ruler, of course. If Lucie had been in a better mood, she would have laughed at comparing the devilishly handsome Tom Riddle to her utterly inhuman Dark Lord.

__Edwin is my friend__, Lucie thought firmly. __The poor boy has never had friends before, thanks to his wretched sister. I'm not going to take his first one away from him.__

She had decided. If Grace, Eileen, and Abraxas really were her friends, they would come back. She certainly wasn't going to chase __them__. She was, after all, a proper pureblooded lady.

Deciding to go for a walk to clear her head, Lucie left the common room. As she proceeded down the corridor, she felt once more the peculiar sensation of being watched—though by who, she couldn't imagine.


	5. The Prospect of Friendship

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 5: The Prospect of Friendship****

Tom Riddle was not happy—not happy at all. Ever since that damn Selwyn girl had appeared, things had been different. He hadn't been able to concentrate on his plans, he was always staring at her during lessons, and she seemed to creep into his thoughts at the most inopportune moments. She was infuriating, to be sure, but he was oddly intrigued by her.

It was the most that he had ever been interested in any girl, and to be truthful, it angered him—he hated her for it. He had always thought himself above such human weaknesses. If she hadn't appeared, shrouded in such mystery, everything would still be under control.

As it was, who was to say that he couldn't have some fun with her? Selwyn was smart—much smarter than he'd initially given her credit for—and she was always surrounded by those damn friends of hers. If he wanted her to get close to him, he'd have to isolate her. It wouldn't be easy, of course, but perhaps he could enlist the services of some others. If he'd heard correctly, Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones weren't particularly fond of Selwyn—surely, Tom could charm them into helping him.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. If all went well, very soon, Lucie Selwyn would be in her rightful place—under his control.

…

When Lucie had finally returned to the dormitory after her little spat with Grace and Eileen, the other girls were already sleeping. She had crawled as quietly as possible into bed, resolving to make up with them as soon as morning came. She felt sorry for shouting at them, and was surprised at herself for her outburst. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Thankfully, no nightmares plagued her sleep that night. When it was finally time to wake up for breakfast, Lucie felt a great deal better than she had the night before. To her relief, she found when she opened the curtains around her bed that all of the other girls had already left the room—save for Grace and Eileen.

As Lucie climbed out of bed, they both looked at her warily, as though she were a time bomb that would explode at any minute. Lucie thought of the things she had said to them, how unladylike she'd been, and her cheeks suddenly heated up with a now-familiar reddish tinge. Her parents would have been appalled at her behavior.

__But they aren't here.__

Shaking away the unwanted thought, Lucie turned her attention back to her friends. She would deal with such bothersome things as inner turmoil later, when she had less to worry about.

"I'm sorry for shouting at the two of you," she said finally, her gaze flickering back and forth between Grace and Eileen. "I was angry, and being irrational, and I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I hope you'll find it in yourselves to forgive me."

As Grace and Eileen glanced at each other, Lucie could have sworn that she saw smiles pulling at the corners of their lips.

"Of course we can forgive you, Lucie," Eileen finally replied. "We talked it over last night, and we realized that you must be going through a lot right now. You're in a new place, surrounded by new people, away from your family for the first time in your life. It would be difficult for anyone."

Lucie smiled, laughing inwardly at just how right Eileen was. "Thank you for understanding."

"That's what friends are for," said Grace. "Even the best of us make mistakes."

Lucie's grin faded as she began to see what Grace was hinting at. "Again, thank you, but...I stand by what I said about Edwin." Grace opened her mouth to interrupt, but Lucie waved her down, going on hurriedly. "Before you say anything, just hear me out. Don't you think it's possible that Lucretia and Eponine are the ones we shouldn't trust? I mean, have you ever _seen_ Edwin do _any___of the things they've accused him of?"

Grace and Eileen looked at each other worriedly. "Well, no, not exactly," said Eileen. "But—"

"—but you've always believed them, because Edwin is a little bit awkward and shy, and he's an easy target. I understand. I've done the same thing to people before, but that doesn't make it right." Lucie paused, wondering with a bit of amusement just what had gotten into her. "Look, whether you like it or not, Edwin is my friend now, and I would appreciate it if the two of you and Abraxas gave him a chance as well. Please, if you care about me, just give him a chance."

For one excruciating moment, Lucie was certain that they would just turn and walk away, never to associate with her again, but then Grace gave a long-suffering sigh, and Lucie knew what her answer would be.

"I suppose," she began hesitantly, looking to Eileen for confirmation, "that the five of us could get a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks during the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday."

It wasn't much, but it was a start. If there was anything Lucie Selwyn was confident in, it was her powers of persuasion. Before long, Edwin, Grace, Eileen, and Abraxas were sure to be the best of friends. "Thanks, Grace. That would be lovely."

…

As the day progressed, Lucie was surprised to find herself in relatively high spirits. It was Thursday, so as long as her friends didn't back out of their Hogsmeade plans in the next two days, Lucie had everything neatly under control. For nearly the first time since she had arrived in 1943, Lucie felt as though things were as they should be.

She decided to stop into the library and tell Edwin the good news before her evening patrols with Riddle. Anything to prolong seeing __him __was a plus, really.

Just as she expected, Lucie found Edwin sitting in his normal corner, alone, his nose stuck in a book. She settled into the chair across from him, waiting patiently for him to realize her presence and look up. When he did, he looked stricken, as though she were the last person he had expected to see there.

"Lucie!" he said lowly, leaning in as if telling her a dire secret. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I figured I'd find you here, so I thought I'd stop in and say hello before my patrol." Lucie paused, eyebrows knitting together as she studied Edwin's expression. He seemed distraught about something, though what it could be, she didn't know. "Edwin, is something the matter?"

Edwin frowned, shutting his thick textbook with a __snap__. "Surely you must have heard the latest rumour that my sister and her horrible friend have been spreading about me. I thought it would have scared you off."

Lucie let out a breath, realizing what he meant. "You mean all that business with Walburga Black? Edwin, of course I know it wasn't you!"

"Do you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I know my sister, and she can be quite...convincing."

"Well, not to me," said Lucie, drawing herself up proudly. "The way I was raised, I can detect a liar with my eyes closed. Eponine and Lucretia don't scare me."

Edwin sighed. "Perhaps they should, Lucie."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Edwin leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further, so that Lucie had to strain to even be able to hear it. "I may not know you very well yet, Lucie, but even I can tell that you have secrets. And Eponine and Lucretia—finding and exposing secrets is what they do best. Hanging around me will only make them angry, and make you a target. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed away."

Lucie placed a hand lightly over Edwin's. His twitched under hers for a moment, but he made no move to pull it away. "Edwin," she said, "I'm not going to stay away from you because of two nasty girls. I promised to be your friend and I was always taught to stay true to my word." Lucie paused, smirking, as a thought occurred to her. "Besides, I've already fallen from their good graces anyway."

"How do you mean?" asked Edwin cautiously.

"Last night, when Walburga came back to the dormitory, Eponine tried to tell us that you were responsible. I defended you, of course—even got into a fight with two of my friends over it."

Edwin suddenly looked very concerned. "Lucie, I wish you wouldn't have done that—"

"Oh, don't worry," Lucie interrupted. "I've made up with Grace and Eileen. That reminds me, actually—"

"No, Lucie, just listen a moment!" His voice was so urgent that Lucie actually stopped, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Edwin looked at her very seriously, and she knew that look—she'd seen it enough times on her father—well enough that she listened very carefully. "Let me tell you something about this place, Lucie. __Nothing __stays a secret at Hogwarts. It all comes out eventually, and right now you're just adding fuel to the fire."

Lucie stayed silent for a moment, torn. For reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, Edwin's words stirred something up in her, something she didn't particularly like.

No—she was being silly. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and it wouldn't do to listen to some boy's pitiful attempts to frighten her. Stretching her lips into a smile, Lucie squeezed Edwin's hand reassuringly.

"I'll be fine, Edwin. You don't need to worry about me, really. Now, I've got to get going before I'm late to patrols, but I came here to ask you if you'd be willing to get a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with my friends and me this Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know—" Edwin began, but Lucie quickly cut him off.

"__Please__, Edwin?" she asked, trying to look as pleading as possible. "I'd really love it if you all got to know each other."

Finally, after a few more minutes of coaxing, Edwin agreed. Lucie felt quite pleased with herself as she walked to her patrols. There had been a moment there when she'd felt genuinely nervous at Edwin's words, but that was no matter—she was a Selwyn, after all. She'd been trained all her life to handle difficult situations with grace. If Lucretia and Eponine wanted to come after her, she'd welcome them. They were no match for her.

Still, Lucie couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Edwin Bones knew more than he was letting on.

…

When Saturday finally arrived, Lucie was anxious to get her friends to Hogsmeade as quickly as possible. She didn't want to give them any chance to back out, especially since it had taken so long to even convince them to go.

Abraxas had been the most difficult. He was dead set against the idea, and only after Lucie had enlisted the help of Grace—who made several threats to her boyfriend, none of which she would reveal to Lucie—did he finally concede to the idea. It was clear he wasn't looking forward to it, though, and his surly attitude as they made their way towards the Entrance Hall was really starting to get on Lucie's nerves.

Edwin was waiting for them by the main doors of the castle, bundled up against the autumn chill and looking rather like a baby deer who has stumbled across humans for the first time. Lucie's heart went out to him, and she almost considered letting him off the hook and allowing him to scurry on back to the library, but the stubborn part of her forbade it. She was determined to make things work.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was, in a word, tense. It passed in utter silence, and though it wasn't by any means a long journey, it seemed to take an eternity to the unlikely group of five. Even Grace and Eileen, who normally couldn't stay quiet long enough to make it through their daily lessons, were being unusually reclusive.

As they sat down at an empty table, all of them avoiding eye contact, Lucie decided she was going to have to be the one to break the ice. It was time to put those Selwyn conversational skills to good use.

"Now," she began, hoping (for the first time) that she didn't sound too much like her mother, "I know not all of us were looking forward to this little outing, but I think we should try to make the best of it. This has the potential to be rather enjoyable. Fun, even." Her four companions looked as though they didn't believe a word of it, and Lucie didn't blame them. She sounded like an idiot.

"All right, look," she said, resolving to try a different approach, "you are all my friends, and I likr each and every one of you, despite not having known you very long. I realize that you haven't gotten along in the past, but things have changed. Grace, Abraxas, Eileen—we've established that maybe Lucretia and Eponine haven't been telling the truth about Edwin, right?"

The three of them refused to meet Lucie's eye, suddenly seeming very interested in their shoelaces or the planks of wood that made up the floor. Lucie looked to Edwin, but he appeared to be as lost as she felt. After a moment she was able to catch his eye, and he seemed to recognize the desperation in her expression.

"Since you obviously won't listen to Lucie, allow me to tell you myself," he said. As if on cue, the other three looked up, waiting expectantly for Edwin to continue. He sighed, bracing himself for something. "I know what you all think of me, and you're certainly entitled to your opinions, but allow me to ask one thing of you—put aside what you've heard from my sister or her friend. Simply look at __me. __If I have ever done anything to directly offend any of you, tell me now, and I will offer my deepest apologies."

The silence that ensued, though in reality it lasted perhaps a minute or two, was one of the longest Lucie had ever had to endure. Her eyes flicked back and forth between her four friends rapidly, silently willing one of them to speak and break the intense, agonizing quiet.

In the end, it was Abraxas. "So tell me, Edwin, do you like Quidditch?"

And just like that, the tension dissipated—just a little. It certainly wasn't wiped out completely, but it was a moment of progress. Edwin smiled, glancing ever so quickly over at Lucie, before he was deep in conversation with Abraxas over their shared favourite sport. It had been a tiny look, but Lucie had seen the gratitude in his eyes. For the first time, Edwin could see the prospect of friends, and it was because of Lucie.

The thought made her feel good, but not the kind of good she was accustomed to. This had nothing to do with personal gain—she wasn't more powerful, she wasn't any richer, she hadn't gained any coveted connections—and yet, she felt as though she'd accomplished something great. And in a way, she had.

Maybe Abraxas and Edwin wouldn't turn out to be best mates, but they weren't enemies anymore, and that was something to celebrate.

Lucie was slightly confused by her happiness, though. She supposed she had benefited a little from forging a connection between Edwin and the others—she wouldn't have to endure Grace and Eileen's anger any more, after all—but it wasn't the kind of benefit she'd held any value to before. It was curious, really. For the second time, Lucie wondered what had gotten into her.

Little by little, the conversation between the five of them grew easier, until someone from a distance could mistake them for a group of long-time friends. Lucie smiled as the topic went from Quidditch, to the utter boredom of Professor Binns' lectures, to prospective jobs after graduation. It was easy—or, at least, __easier—__and Lucie felt as though nothing could bring her down in that moment.

And then Tom Riddle walked in.

Lucie felt him before she saw him, something that she would only realize was odd later. The familiar prickling sensation assaulted her once more, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Looking around warily, Lucie found her eyes suddenly locked with Riddle's.

Handsome as he was, he looked almost comically out of place in the homely little pub. Lucie would have laughed if she hadn't realized just then that he was walking directly towards her. Her breath caught, and she vaguely realized that conversation among her friends had ground to a halt.

"Hello, Miss Selwyn," Riddle greeted once he had reached their table. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Oh, well actually—" Lucie stopped in the middle of her sentence, remembering that it wouldn't do to be rude, especially to someone like __him__. "No, we were just having a drink. Was there something you needed, Mr. Riddle?"

"Actually, yes. I was wondering if you would mind taking a walk with me. I have some business I wish to discuss with you. I promise I will not keep you from your friends for very long."

Lucie glanced anxiously at her companions. As well as they seemed to be getting along, she didn't know how wise it was to leave Edwin alone with her other friends just yet. And besides all that, she didn't know if it was safe for __her __to be alone with Riddle.

"Go on, Lucie," said Eileen. "We'll wait for you."

"Are you sure?" Lucie said uncertainly, glancing at Abraxas.

He smiled, nodding just slightly. "We're sure. Go on, before it gets any later."

Sighing resignedly, Lucie rose from her chair. With one last look over her shoulder at her friends, Lucie followed Riddle out of the pub. When they had stepped onto the street and begun to walk, Lucie wondered what in the name of Merlin had gotten into him. It wasn't like Riddle to want to spend any time with her outside of their patrols. She was fairly sure that he despised her—so what was he playing at?

"What is it you wanted to discuss with me?" Lucie ventured to ask, moving her hand to rest in what she hoped was a casual manner on the waistband of her skirt, where she had stowed her wand.

"Actually," Riddle began, and he had the good grace to act as though he were embarrased, "if you'll forgive me, I just wanted to get a moment alone with you—outside of prefect duties, that is. If you don't mind my saying, I find you rather intriguing, and I'd like to know more about you."

Realization swept over Lucie. So it was another test, this time to see what he could get her to reveal about herself. "With all due respect, Mr. Riddle," she began carefully, not wanting to anger him with so few witnesses around, "I hardly think that's fair."

Riddle remained expressionless, though one of his eyebrows raised just the slightest bit. "How do you mean?"

"Well," Lucie replied, "just look at you. You're so quiet, and I barely know anything about you at all. If you want to know about me, I think it's only fair that you tell me about yourself." Lucie felt quite proud of herself. If he wanted to test her, she could test him right back.

"Very well."

Taken aback, Lucie lost herself for a moment. "Huh?" Quickly recovering, though with a blush playing at her cheeks, she said, "I mean, of course. Tell me about yourself."

"I come from a wealthy pureblood family," Riddle began, and Lucie immediately knew he was lying. She'd known from the moment she met him that he was not wealthy (the shabby robes) and that he was not a pureblood ("Riddle" wasn't a pureblood name).

"Mmhmm," Lucie encouraged, hoping that she sounded genuinely interested. Riddle continued to lie smoothly, and he was so good at it, so convincing, that Lucie found herself nearly believing him. If she hadn't known any better, she would have fallen for it from the very first word. As it was, it was difficult to remind herself that the words flowing effortlessly from his perfect mouth were indeed nothing but a load of rubbish.

When he had finished, Lucie responded with all the proper "that's lovely"'s and "how wonderful"'s. The sun had begun to set, and oddly, they had stopped walking. Riddle caught her eye, and Lucie found herself unable to look away. If she had been of clearer mind, she would have noticed that they'd ended up in a secluded corner of the village, far away from the hustle and bustle of the main square.

Riddle stepped closer, and every muscle in Lucie's body screamed simultaneously for her to run away, and to stay exactly where she was. If she had said she wasn't completely terrified, she would be lying, but she also felt oddly exhilarated.

And then it happened. Riddle took one step closer, and pressed his lips firmly to Lucie's. They were warm and pliant, not at all like she expected them to be, and for a moment Lucie had the horrifying urge to kiss him back.

Then, suddenly, it was over. The spell was broken, and Riddle stepped back, perfectly calm, surveying Lucie carefully for her reaction. At first, she only felt numb, but then, like the bite of a Stinging Hex, terrible fright spread through her body, and Lucie did the only thing she could.

She turned on her heel, and she ran. Riddle did not call after her, nor did he make any move to follow her. Lucie didn't know why she had expected him to.

Hours later, unable to put the incident from her mind, Lucie would reflect that, despite the fact that she'd stolen a few kisses from Scorpius over the years, none had electrified her as much as that one, single kiss from Riddle.

It truly was a terrifying thought.


	6. Rumours

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 6: Rumours****

Lucie should have known that Riddle would find her eventually. She had retired to the prefects' common room to be alone with her thoughts, and had been staring into the dying embers at the bottom of the fireplace for the better part of an hour. Other prefects had come and gone occasionally, but none of them bothered to speak to her. Whether it was because of her being a Slytherin, or the fact that she looked quite surly, Lucie didn't know. Either way, she didn't particularly care.

Then, just as Lucie was working up the nerve to go back to her dormitory and go to sleep, the door opened, and in stepped none other than Tom Riddle. His expression was, as always, unreadable, but Lucie scarcely spared him a glance. __He __was the last person she wanted to talk to just then.

"Miss Selwyn," Riddle said stiffly, breaking the tense silence between them. Lucie didn't respond, and she heard a tiny exasperated breath escape Riddle's chest. "Must you insist on acting like a petulant child?"

Anger flared up in Lucie's chest, and she lifted her eyes to meet Riddle's. "Me? Act like a child? How __dare __you—"

"If you will allow me, Miss Selwyn," Riddle interrupted, "I have something to say."

Lucie crossed her arms over her chest, looking very much like the child she had just denied being. "Very well. If you must."

The muscles in Riddle's jaw tightened, his hand twitching ever so slightly, and for a moment Lucie feared he was reaching for his wand. Then it passed, and his features were schooled once more into a mask of neutrality.

"I came to offer my...__apologies__," he began, spitting out the word as though it had burned his tongue. "My behavior was inappropriate, and I would appreciate it if the incident could be forgotten. We are prefects, after all, and must spend quite a bit of time together."

Lucie's eyes narrowed. What was Riddle getting at? Surely, this conversation wasn't just meant to spare them both the awkwardness their kiss would inevitably cause. No, he had to have another motive. Perhaps he was trying to appear repentant so as to make it seem that he had actual human emotions, and wasn't the sociopath she thought him to be. Yes, that would make sense. Lucie couldn't relate—if there was one thing she had in common with Tom Riddle, it was an obsession with keeping up appearances, and he knew that.

Well, she wasn't going to let him win. She opened her mouth to refuse, to tell him that, no, it most certainly wasn't forgotten, but then she caught Riddle's eye. Something in his carefully controlled expression was just a bit off, and Lucie felt her heart begin to pound unevenly. Something about him carried a silent threat, the terrifying promise of her destruction should she defy him, and Lucie found herself playing right into it.

"Of course," she finally said, her voice sounding much smaller than she would have liked it to. "Let's just go back to the way things were."

…

When Lucie finally made it back to her dormitory, all of the other girls had already gone to sleep. The curtains were pulled around Grace and Eileen's beds, but Lucie resolved to apologize to them come morning for never returning to the Three Broomsticks. She crawled into bed, feeling much worse than she had just a few hours before. Just as she'd thought that everything was settling into a liveable pattern, Riddle had to go and complicate it. Things most definitely weren't under Lucie's control, as she'd thought they were, and this was a rather unpleasant development. She wasn't used to things not going her way.

It was all that damn Tom Riddle's fault. If it weren't for him, Lucie would have no reason to be fearing for her life every time she had to go to prefect duty. If it weren't for him, she would have been able to stay with her friends and made sure everything continued to go smoothly. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't feel like she was falling in love—__what__?

Lucie's thoughts ground to a halt. Falling in love? Of course, Tom Riddle was handsome—the most attractive boy she'd ever laid eyes on, really—but she was betrothed! Her heart and hand had always belonged to Scorpius. She'd been promised to him from the very day of her birth, and she'd never once questioned it. That was how things were __supposed __to be.

Almost instinctively, Lucie reached up and pressed her fingers lightly to her lips. When Riddle had kissed her, something had sparked deep within her, something she'd never felt before—but it was __wrong__. Lucie couldn't be attracted to Riddle. She hated him, she was afraid of him, and above all, he would never, ever feel the same way about her. It was hopeless.

Besides, it was very clear that he hadn't kissed her because of any attraction. He was testing her, as always, seeing how she would react. He wanted information, and it seemed that he had been trying to use his looks to get it from her.

More than ever, Lucie wanted to go back to her own time. She didn't care what the consequences would be—she missed her family, she missed her friends, she missed the sense of normalcy that had always been assured to her. In 2022, everything worked a certain way. It had been the same for all of Lucie's life, and she knew that it would stay that way as long as she lived. In 1943, it felt like everything was falling apart.

__At least it can't get any worse, __she thought, just before drifting off into blissful nothingness.

…

Morning arrived, and Lucie woke to find the dormitory deserted. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had overslept, and that breakfast had already started. Cursing under her breath, she got out of bed and quickly dressed for the day. She hadn't thought to wash her hair the previous night, so her normally shiny golden locks were dull and tangled. Irritated, she ran a brush through them for a few minutes before realizing that they were beyond help and pulling them back into a ponytail.

In a fairly foul mood, Lucie descended the stairs into the common room, hoping that her friends would be able to cheer her up. Grace, Eileen, and Abraxas were always good for that, if anything.

They were waiting for her by the fireplace, and judging by the looks on their faces, Lucie's day wasn't about to get any better. Last time she had seen her friends look so distraught over something was when Walburga Black had been released from the hospital wing and they'd seen her gruesome injuries. Lucie could only imagine what terrible thing had happened now.

"What's wrong?" she asked, not even bothering to bid them a good morning. Something told her that niceties wouldn't be necessary in this conversation.

"It's Lucretia and Eponine," said Grace. "You really made them angry when you stood up for Edwin the other night."

Lucie's heart sank. From what she understood, those girls could really hold a grudge. "What did they do?" she ventured to ask, not quite certain that she really wanted to hear the answer.

"They've started spreading rumors about you," said Eileen. "Nasty stuff, that you've been sleeping with him. I heard that it even got around to some of the teachers. This won't be good for your image, Lucie."

Eileen was right, and Lucie knew that. She certainly wasn't happy about this latest development, but oddly enough, she felt that it wasn't bothering her as much as it should have. Perhaps it was the culture shock, but nothing that Lucie had held in high esteem in 2022 seemed to be quite as important in 1943. People had different values here—values that she didn't understand. At first, she'd had no interest in coming to terms with these, but with each passing day, she wanted to more and more.

It had only been just over a week since she'd arrived in the past, but already she was a different Lucie Selwyn that she had been when she arrived. The thought was terrifying, to be sure, and yet, not entirely unwelcome. Perhaps the old Lucie Selwyn could benefit from some changes.

Then a thought occurred to her, and Lucie glanced nervously over at her friends. "I suppose this is going to scare you lot off of getting to know Edwin, then, right?" Surely, now that Lucretia and Eponine were after Lucie and Edwin, the others had to be afraid that the mean girls would target them next. Perhaps they wouldn't even want to be friends with Lucie anymore. The very notion made Lucie oddly upset.

"Actually, no," said Abraxas, surprising her. "You were right, Lucie. We should have given him a chance long ago. For a Hufflepuff, he's actually good company."

Lucie grinned. "Really? So you'll still try to be friends with him?"

"Really," said Grace. "After you left the Three Broomsticks the other night, we were all a little nervous, but we ended up having a good time. Most of the boys in this place are mindless idiots—except for you, of course, Abraxas—but we were actually able to carry on an intelligent conversation with Edwin."

"That reminds me," said Eileen as the four of them began their walk down to breakfast, "why didn't you come back last night? We didn't even hear you come into the dormitory." Eileen suddenly paused, a grin spreading across her thin face. "Did something __happen __with you and Riddle?"

Lucie's jaw tightened. Yes, something most certainly did transpire between her and Riddle, but she wasn't about to tell that to her friends. She wouldn't be able to tell them all the details, and their minds would go to a thousand different places, none of which she cared to think of. "No, we just took a walk and lost track of time. After we went back to the castle I stayed in the prefects' common room to study for a while, and you were all asleep by the time I came to bed."

Perhaps it was her eyes playing tricks on her, but Lucie could have sworn that Eileen looked a bit disappointed. She shuddered to think of what had been running through the girl's mind—did she __want __her and Riddle to be a couple? The very thought was revolting.

And yet... Last night, she'd had that little slip while she'd been thinking about him. She'd actually, for half a second, entertained the idea of __fancying __him. But fancying with Tom Riddle was not an option, for a whole plethora of reasons, not the least of which being the humiliation she would suffer when the incontrovertible fact that he did not share her affections came to light.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Lucie was pleasantly surprised to see that Edwin was waiting for them. He looked bashfully at Lucie, as though silently apologizing for his horrible sister, and she grinned in return, trying to convey that she didn't hold him even slightly at fault.

"Morning, Edwin," greeted Abraxas, clapping the other boy on the shoulder. As Lucie looked at the two of them, she realized that she had never noticed how starkly different in appearance they actually were. While Abraxas was slightly shorter and had the thick, muscular build of a Beater, Edwin was tall, lanky, and lean like a seeker. Abraxas was pale with a pointed face and a stern expression, while Edwin was slightly darker, with a round face that held a kind, if often distant look. They were two boys who looked as though they could never be friends, and the very sight of them standing together so amiably made Lucie giggle.

The five of them proceeded into the Great Hall, but as they parted ways with Edwin and turned towards the Slytherin table, they were immediately accosted by Professor Slughorn, whose face was reddened and glistening, as though he had been in a great hurry somewhere. He stopped in front of them, looking disapprovingly down at Lucie.

"Miss Selwyn," he said, "I wouldn't even bother going to your table. The Headmaster has requested your presence in his office."

Lucie kept her eyes downcast, but her heart sank. There were only a few possible reasons that Dippet would want to speak to her alone, and none of them boded well. Bidding a solemn goodbye to her friends, Lucie turned and left the Great Hall, trudging up several flights of stairs to what she was sure would be her doom.

Only when she had reached the stone gargoyles did she realize that Slughorn had not given her the password. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember what Marcus Burbage and Jeremiah Cattermole had said it was, the first day she'd arrived in 1943.

"Acromantula?" she said, phrasing it as a question. The gargoyles glanced at one another, looking rather annoyed, but then finally moved aside, allowing her entrance to the winding stone staircase beyond.

"Enter," came Dippet's rough, booming voice when Lucie knocked on the door. As slowly as she dared, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The Headmaster was behind his desk, looking down his nose at Lucie as though she were something unpleasant he had stepped in.

"Miss Selwyn," he said by way of greeting. "Please have a seat."

She did, looking warily at him all the while. "Professor Slughorn said you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Indeed," Dippet replied gruffly. "There is a very serious matter we need to discuss."

Lucie gulped. This was it—Dippet knew she was from the future, and he knew she'd been lying about where she came from. He was going to report her to the Ministry or worse—send her back. Any other time, she would have given her left arm to return home, but in that moment all she could picture was Bellatrix Lestrange, cursing her into oblivion.

"Sir, I can explain—"

"Quiet, Miss Selwyn. Now, it has been brought to my attention by several concerned faculty members that there are...__rumours __regarding you and a certain Mr. Edwin Bones."

Lucie opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped dead. __Edwin__? Like a tidal wave, understanding and relief flooded through Lucie. In her time, students her age were often married, but she supposed that in 1943 premarital relations were most likely something of a scandal. Her secret, it seemed, was safe—at least for the time being.

"Now, Miss Selwyn," Dippet continued, bring Lucie's attention back to him, "I will not state outright what these allegations contain, as I'm sure you are aware of them. However, I will do my utmost to stress that the place of a proper young lady is, to put it delicately, at a distance. There will be no inappropriate relations between unmarried children in my school. Do I make myself clear?"

Anger began to creep its way up Lucie's chest, no matter how she tried to suppress it. This man—gruff old Armando Dippet—had the nerve to try and tell her the place of a proper young lady? She was a __Selwyn__, no matter how much she hadn't been acting like one as of late, and she knew the terms of being a lady as easily as she knew how to breathe.

"With all due respect, sir," she said tightly, trying to keep the ire from her voice, "I was always raised to be a __proper young lady__. It is a matter of pride in my family. Any accusations that indicate otherwise are simply untrue."

Dippet's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Lucie knew that he didn't believe a word of what she said. She waited tensely for him to dispute her, a comeback ready on her lips, but the old man simply sighed, continuing to glare at Lucie.

"Very well, Miss Selwyn. I will take your word for it. You may go."

Lucie stood, clasping her hands together to keep them from trembling in rage. "Thank you, sir."

__Filthy old liar__, she thought bitterly as she left the office. Dippet still thought she was some kind of whore. It made her unspeakably angry—Lucie Selwyn was nothing if not true to her family's values.

Then a thought occurred to her. Why had she, a betrothed young lady, been having such odd, romantic thoughts about Tom Riddle? Didn't that alone prove that she wasn't as true to her childhood teachings as she had once thought?

Lucie forced herself to stop, to clear her mind. She rubbed her temples against the oncoming headache. The best thing to do would be to forget all of it. At this rate, all she was going to do was drive herself insane.


	7. A Kiss

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 7: A Kiss****

It seemed to Lucie that it would never happen, but eventually her life in 1943 began to fall into a regular sort of pattern. She went to classes, did her homework, ate meals in the Great Hall, and spent time with her friends just like any other student. The only small hiccup in her otherwise pleasant daily life was the nightly patrols she had to conduct with a certain Mr. Tom Riddle.

These ranged from uncomfortably silent to utterly tense. Lucie didn't know quite how to act around him. One day, he would be perfectly civil and she could almost justify her physical attraction to him, but then the next he would be brooding and mysterious, and her fear of him would increase tenfold. The boy was an enigma, to be sure, but with the rest of her life going so well, she certainly wasn't going to try and figure him out.

Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones were, of course, still a problem, but they seemed to be running out of rumours to spread, and eventually some other poor sap fell victim to the Hogwarts gossip circuit. By the time the Christmas holidays neared, Lucie's alleged relations with Edwin seemed to be old news.

A week or so before the holidays were due to start, Dippet stood up during dinner to make an announcement. The students fell silent immediately, some simply curious, others worried that he would have some terrible news about Grindelwald. Briefly, Lucie was thankful that her parents couldn't be touched by the Dark wizard.

"Students," said the Headmaster, his voice booming even without the use of magic, "as you well know, there are two wars being fought at this moment, both by our kind, and to a lesser extent, by the Muggles. As such, we have deemed it necessary to keep the castle as empty as possible over the Christmas holidays, so as not to provoke an attack."

Murmurs flared up among the tables, and it took Dippet several moments to regain control. "Now, now," continued, "I know what you are all thinking, but do not misunderstand me. An attack on Hogwarts at this time is unlikely—this is simply a precaution. I'm afraid that only students with very special circumstances will be able to remain at the castle over break. That will be all."

When Dippet returned to his seat, a roar of conversation immediately overtook the students. All of them were wondering the same thing—who would be able to stay, and would they be in any real danger?

"This doesn't sound good," said Abraxas. "Dippet may say that there's nothing to worry about, but he wouldn't evacuate the castle if he didn't have legitimate concerns." He paused for a moment, the air leaving his lungs with a __woosh__. "I'm just glad we all have families to go to."

"Me too," Grace replied, taking his hand and lying her head on his shoulder.

Lucie looked down at her untouched food, suddenly no longer hungry. She would have to stay at the castle, she knew that much, but what would happen to her? She'd almost rather go home and see her family one last time before Bellatrix got to her. It would be better than cowering in the past and waiting for Grindelwald to kill her.

She knew that was an impossibility, though. Even if she could return to the future, her family would look on her as a traitor, and they would hate her. It was enough to make her want to stay away, no matter what the consequences.

Lucie looked up, and her eyes met with someone's at the other end of the table. Tom Riddle. He was staring at her, as he had done when she first arrived in 1943. Perhaps he was wondering the same thing she was—would they be stuck in the castle together over Christmas?

…

The next day, a list of students who would be permitted to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays was posted on the bulletin near the House Point counters, and Lucie found her fears confirmed. Only a handful of students—less than a dozen—were on it, and Lucie only recognized her own name and Riddle's. She resisted the urge to groan. All of her friends would be gone, home with their families, and her only company would be __him.__

"Why are you on the list, Lucie?" asked Eileen when she saw it. "I figured you'd be going home to see your family."

"They're still in hiding," Lucie responded, thinking quickly. "They think it'll be safer for me here."

Eileen smiled, placing a comforting hand on Lucie's forearm. She, Grace, and Abraxas went up to their respective dormitories to finish packing, leaving Lucie alone in the common room. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. She was abruptly overcome with the childish urge to cry, but bit it back. Tears would do her no good.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. With a renewed sense of determination, she sprang to her feet, wiping the unshed tears from the corners of her eyes, and hurried from the common room.

…

Tom Riddle strode down a sixth floor corridor, his robes billowing regally behind him. Things were going well, and he found himself in high spirits. He was one of the few who would be allowed to remain at the castle over the Christmas holidays, and so he wouldn't have to return to that blasted Muggle orphanage he was damned to call home. Better yet, the Selwyn girl would remain at Hogwarts as well, meaning he could move forward in his plan to have full control of her.

Things in regard to that had been progressing rather slowly, something that would have normally angered him, but Tom intentionally kept himself calm. There was something different about Selwyn, something he wanted to know, and he was willing to take all the time he needed in extracting the information from her.

He had been diligently winning the affections of Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones—not a difficult feat, he thought with a smirk—so that they may help him isolate Selwyn from her friends. If she felt alone and abandoned, she would be much easier to manipulate. Black and Bones, airheaded and irritating as they were, displayed an admirable level of cruelty, and would be of great use to him. If anyone could turn Selwyn's friends against her, it was them.

As for Selwyn herself, Tom needed to tread carefully. For reasons beyond his capability of imagination, he found himself slightly distracted when he was around her. When he saw her, he was suddenly able to think less clearly, and his thoughts all seemed to lead back to her. It was bothersome, to be sure, but it was no matter. Soon, everything would fall back into its rightful place.

"Sir, I need to know. Surely you can tell me more than 'It isn't safe'." Tom's pace slowed. That was Selwyn's voice—he would know it anywhere, it had been plaguing his thoughts for months now—and it was coming from Dumbledore's office.

Tom's eyes narrowed. Though he was careful to keep up appearances, it was no secret that he held a great dislike for the Transfiguration professor. It seemed that Selwyn and the man had a secret, and it only made his desire to control her burn more intensely. He __had __to know what they were talking about.

"Miss Selwyn," Dumbledore replied, "I'm afraid I have no more information for you. As I told you when you first arrived here, you will come to all the answers you seek in due time. All will be as it is meant to be. I am sorry I cannot provide you with more."

"Sir, please—"

"I know you grow frustrated, Miss Selwyn, but things are falling into place. Before long, you will begin to see things more clearly." Dumbledore sounded achingly sympathetic, and Tom's lip curled in disgust. Before he could think any more on the matter, though, he heard the click of Selwyn's shoes as she approached the door. Quickly, Tom backed into the shadows, hiding himself behind a nearby statue and waiting.

…

Lucie strode out of Dumbledore's office, feeling more frustrated upon leaving than she had when she walked in. The old man was impossibly vague—perhaps it had not been such a wonderful idea to go and see him after all. At first, Lucie had thought that if anyone could set her mind at ease, it would be Dumbledore, but apparently she'd been mistaken.

"Hello, Miss Selwyn."

With a gasp, Lucie whirled around to see none other than Tom Riddle standing behind her. Lost as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard him approach. There was something in his expression, something she couldn't quite place, but it unnerved her. As he gazed at her, the corners of his mouth turned up in a triumphant smirk, and dread filled Lucie as she realized that he'd been there all along.

"I couldn't help but overhear," said Riddle, almost as though he'd read her thoughts. His tone was perfectly apologetic, but there was something lurking just beneath the surface, and it made Lucie's skin crawl uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mr. Riddle," she replied, fighting to keep her tone even. If Riddle found out the truth about her, there was no telling what he might do.

Riddle's smirk grew even wider, and he stepped closer to Lucie. She backed away from him, but he did not stop his advance. "Now, Miss Selwyn, we both know that is a lie. You know __very __well what I'm talking about. If I were you, I'd make it easy on yourself. Tell me. Perhaps I can help."

The last part was the opposite of sincere, and Lucie knew it. She gazed up fearfully into Riddle's eyes, wondering what he would do if she ran away. By this point, they were far enough from the Transfiguration classroom that Dumbledore would not hear her if she screamed. She'd have to deal with Riddle on her own.

Then, suddenly, an idea struck her. It was so __obvious__—it would distract him, perhaps disorient him long enough for her to make an escape, and if truth be told, she had wanted to do it for some time now.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lucie strode forward, not missing the momentary gleam of surprise in Riddle's eyes, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him full on the mouth.

He was stiff as a board, but she had expected this. The kiss was short, and she had only meant to do it, get it over with, and run the other direction. As soon as her lips touched his, though, something changed. Suddenly, she didn't want to run. She didn't ever want to move from that spot again. If she had her way, she could kiss Riddle until the end of time, just to feel that jolt of electricity.

Then, just like that, it was over. Riddle pushed her away, she stumbled backward, just barely managing to stay on her feet. When she looked up at him, she saw raw, undiluted fury in his eyes, and she'd never felt more terrified. What had she been __thinking__? He was surely going to kill her now.

Riddle pulled out his wand, and Lucie had to force herself not to cower in fear. A lady did not shy away from threats, but instead faced them with her head held high. That was what her family had always taught her, and she clung to it in that moment, knowing that if she did not, she would fall to the ground weeping, and would die without dignity.

But Riddle did not cast the Killing Curse, though he looked as though he would like nothing better. Instead, wordlessly, he shot a jet of red light at her, and she was thrown into the stone wall behind her. With a sickening __crack__, her shoulder made contact, and she fell in a heap to the ground.

Before she could stop them, tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks, and suddenly she could not hold back the terrible sobs that wracked her body. Everything that had pained her—the disaster of her wedding, being thrust into a new time, missing her family, not being able to return home, her dark attraction to Tom Riddle, her current embarrassment, and not least of all the excruciating pain in her shoulder—suddenly came crashing down in one deadly tidal wave of grief. As hard as she tried, as loudly as her childhood teachings screamed inside of her head, she could not find the will to contain herself.

"Go," Riddle spat, pulling her roughly to her feet and shoving her away from him. "Get out of my sight before I kill you."

Lucie did not need to be told twice. Clutching her bleeding shoulder and feeling as though she was liable to break in half at any moment, she turned and ran. She did not stop until she reached the dungeons. She burst into the Slytherin common room, running past her friends and ignoring their bewildered looks, and threw herself violently onto her bed.

She screamed into her pillow, unable to stop the sound from ripping from her throat. Eventually, Grace and Eileen came to look for her, but she simply drew the curtains around her bed and cast a Silencing Charm.

That night was the first of many that Lucie Selwyn cried herself to sleep.


	8. The Princes

**The Golden Thread**

****Chapter 8: The Princes****

Though she didn't quite think it possible, Lucie managed to make it through the winter holidays relatively unscathed. Mercifully, with the castle so empty, her prefect duties with Riddle were suspended until the new term. He wasn't often present at meals, either, so she was more or less able to avoid him.

Before she knew it, the day that the students were to return had arrived. Grace and Abraxas had been writing to her over the holidays, as well as Edwin, telling her of their various exploits and family dinners, but Eileen had been curiously silent. Lucie hadn't thought much of it—as far as she knew, Eileen was perfectly safe and happy.

On Christmas morning, she had woken up with a small pile of gifts at the foot of her bed. All her life, she had grown accustomed to receiving dozens of presents, but she found that she didn't mind in the slightest. Somehow, having gifts from people who really knew her felt...more special.

From Grace, there had been a vast array of elegant hairpins, so that she could put her hair up in the style of the era. From Abraxas, who shared her sweet tooth, there had been a bag full of the best candies that Honeydukes offered. From Edwin, there had been several of the most popular books of the day. From Eileen, there had been a beautiful sundress that she had sewn by herself, without magic. Eileen had made one for herself and Grace as well, and the three girls had plans to wear them to Hogsmeade as soon as the weather permitted it.

Now, a little over a week later, Lucie was waiting down in the Entrance Hall to receive her friends. She'd missed them more than she cared to admit, and it would be nice to have some tolerable company again.

Grace was the first to burst through the front doors. "Lucie!" she squealed, lunging at her friend and throwing her arms tightly around her neck. "It's so good to see you!"

Lucie giggled. "You too, Gracie. How was your holiday? Tell me everything!"

"Soon," Grace said conspiratorially, waggling her eyebrows at Lucie. "We'll all talk as soon as we get settled in." Lucie agreed, and then turned to embrace Abraxas, Eileen, and Edwin. The five of them decided to find a place to sit together in the Great Hall, since Edwin couldn't join them in the Slytherin common room. When they were settled into a corner of the Slytherin table, ignoring the dirty looks from several students there, they all finally began to discuss the goings-on of their holidays.

"I had the most wonderful break," said Eileen, her face lighting up in a way Lucie had never seen it do. "I met someone, Lucie. A Muggle boy who lives in my neighborhood."

Lucie paused to consider that. She would have expected to be repulsed to learn that Eileen was interested in a Muggle boy, but she found that it didn't affect her to the extent that she thought it would have. She was exactly __comfortable __with the thought, to be honest, but it was clear to her that Eileen's happiness had become a more important issue than blood status.

"What's his name?" Lucie finally asked, unable to think of any other question.

"Tobias Snape," Eileen answered proudly. "But he's asked me to call him Toby."

With a slight jolt, Lucie realized that Eileen must be the mother of Severus Snape, a war hero and a pivotal ally to the Supreme Ruler in his defeat of Harry Potter. Lucie was surprised she hadn't realized it before. It was well-known in her time that, in his youth, Snape had fashioned "The Half-Blood Prince" as a name for himself. Lucie couldn't believe she hadn't made the connection until now.

Besides, she'd seen pictures of Snape, and it was clear that he resembled Eileen. They had the same dark hair, the same nose, even the same intense dark eyes. As Lucie looked at her scrawny, oftentimes awkward friend, she found it difficult to imagine her as anyone's mother, let alone that of a war hero.

The five friends stayed together like that for an hour, talking about everything they had done over the holidays, and how excited they were for the new term. Finally, because it was growing late, they decided it was time they headed back to their dormitories. Bidding Edwin a good night in the Entrance Hall, they parted ways, and the rest made their way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, happy to be reunited.

…

Tom Riddle waited in an empty common room, pacing back and forth impatiently. Those idiot girls, Lucretia and Eponine, were meant to meet him, and they were late. His patience was already worn thin, and he had no tolerance for tardiness. If he didn't have to charm them into helping him, he'd curse them into the next life.

Finally, they stole into the room, thankfully clever enough to have Disillusioned themselves. Tom allowed himself to slip into his gentlemanly facade, gracing them with a dazzling smile as they lifted the Charms.

"Hello, ladies," he said smoothly. "I trust you have good news for me."

"Hardly," said Eponine, sounding apologetic. "All she and her friends talked about were their stupid holidays. I don't even know why you're so hung up on her, Tom. She's nothing special."

Tom would have loved to agree, to say that Lucie Selwyn was indeed nothing special, but he could not. Especially since she had kissed him, he found that he wanted to control her even more. For a split second, she had held the power over him, and that could not be allowed to happen again. He was going to break Selwyn down, one way or another.

"Did you hear though, Eponine?" Lucretia was saying, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Eileen Prince is infatuated with a __Muggle __boy. Revolting."

This piqued Tom's interest. The Prince girl's family were pureblood fanatics. He could use this to his advantage.

"It __is __revolting," he said, bending his tone to match Lucretia's. He wasn't entirely lying, either. Prince had pure blood, a good family line. Why would she want to taint that by giving her affections to a filthy, common Muggle boy?

"I'm glad at least __you __can see sense, Tom," said Eponine, jutting out her lower lip. Tom resisted the urge to hex her. "People like her shouldn't even be allowed at Hogwarts."

"You're right, Miss Bones," he replied. "You're absolutely right. We should do something about it."

"What could we do?" asked Lucretia. "The way this school is run, Prince isn't about to get kicked out for this."

Tom smiled his most charming smile. "No, but can you imagine what her parents would think if they found out? I believe that they have a right to know what their daughter is doing behind their backs, and as some of Hogwarts' finest students, it is our duty to tell them."

Lucretia and Eponine stared at him wonderingly, and he knew that he had them.

"What are you saying, Tom?" asked Eponine.

"Write to them," he urged. "Both of you. It is the right thing to do—for their daughter's own good. You'll be doing Prince a favor."

"Of course!" said Lucretia, sounding as though she wished she'd have thought of such a thing. "Oh, Tom, you're so kind."

Tom smiled again, though his hand itched to draw his wand and kill these stupid girls. "I am a Prefect, Miss Black. I am simply doing my duty."

"Would you like us to put your name on the letter too?" asked Eponine.

"No, no. It would be better just coming from the two of you. We do not want to overwhelm them, after all. Just think! The Princes will be devastated enough by the news—if too many people are involved in writing the letter, they might think that half the school knows what a disgrace their daughter is!"

After a few more moments of singing his praises, Black and Bones left to Tom's bidding. As soon as the door had shut behind them, Tom's careful smile melted into a sneer. He hated having to subject himself to such idiocy, but it was necessary.

If all went well, Prince would be gone soon, and he would be one step closer to getting what he wanted.

…

A few days later, everything had fallen back into a normal rhythm, and Lucie found herself strangely contented. She had pushed her disastrous kiss with Riddle to the back of her mind, and only felt mildly nervous that their Prefect duties were to resume that night. The castle was full of people, after all. Too many witnesses.

It was Friday morning, and she was happily digging into breakfast in the Great Hall, her friends laughing and talking around her.

"You should have seen the look on Slughorn's face!" Grace was saying. "I thought his head was going to explode right there in the classroom!" She dissolved into giggles, unable to finish her story. Abraxas grinned, putting an arm lightly around her.

"I swear to Merlin, Grace, you're going to fail out of potions if you keep this up," said Eileen, her tone stern but her face amused.

"Oh, dear old Sluggy would never fail me—"

"WHERE IS SHE?" The voice was male, and booming, as though it had been magically magnified. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled to the main doors, where a man and woman were standing, both looking incredibly irate.

Professor Dippet stood. "Excuse me? How on earth did you get in here?"

Suddenly, a young Argus Filch, the caretaker, hurried into the Great Hall. "Terribly sorry, Headmaster! I intercepted them at the doors, but they drew their wands on me!"

"I won't have a filthy Squib order me about!" shouted the man. "Where is my daughter? Where is Eileen?"

There was a collective gasp as every gaze landed on the Slytherin table. Eileen's eyes were wide, her mouth continually opening and closing as though she had lost the ability to speak. Finally, after several long, tense moments, she stood. From Lucie's place beside her, she could see that her friend's hands were trembling. She took one and squeezed it tightly, all too familiar with fear of one's parents.

"Mother, Father...what are you doing here?" Eileen asked timidly, finally breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

As though spurred by their daughter's words, the Princes stormed forward, Eileen's father grabbing her roughly by the arm and pulling her away from her table. "You should know, you ungrateful wretch!"

"Eileen," said Mrs. Prince, her voice quieter than her husband's, but just as cold, "you are coming with us right now. We're taking you home."

"What?" asked Eileen, beginning to panic. "Why?"

"I'll tell you why!" shouted Mr. Prince. "This school has obviously been a horrible influence on you! My daughter, consorting with a __Muggle __boy!"

All of the colour drained from Eileen's face. "I—I can explain."

"And you will," said Mrs. Prince dangerously. "You'll have plenty of time to tell us at home, because you won't be returning to Hogwarts. Ever."

"__What__?" Eileen tried to wrench her arm from her father's grasp, but was unsuccessful. "No! You can't pull me out of school! My friends—"

"You will do as we say!" spat Mr. Prince. "As for your friends, say your goodbyes. This is the last time you will ever see or speak to them."

"__No!" __Eileen's voice had grown desperate. She turned back to the table, tears glistening in her eyes. "Grace? Abraxas? Lucie?" She peered across the Hall to the Hufflepuff table. "Edwin? Please, one of you help me! Tell them I've done nothing wrong!"

Lucie looked at Grace and Abraxas, but both had suddenly become very interested in their half-eaten plates of food. She looked at the Hufflepuff table, but was unable to find Edwin among his House. Cold disgust settled over her, along with a strange sense of resolve. She turned to the Princes, who were already beginning to drag their sobbing daughter towards the door.

"Wait!" Lucie stood, her hands balling tightly into fists. She forced herself to stay calm. "Please, don't take Eileen away from Hogwarts. My name is Lucie Selwyn—I'm a good friend of your daughter's and I know that she would never do something like you're suggesting!"

The Princes narrowed their eyes at Lucie, barely pausing. "We have it on very good authority that she has, Miss Selwyn," said Mrs. Prince. "It would serve you well to keep your nose in your own business, and to stay away from our family."

Then, just like that, they were gone. They swept out of the Great Hall, and the sound of Eileen's frantic sobs faded into nothing as they dragged her further and further away. After a few moments in which every pair of eyes in the room was trained on Lucie, she turned slowly back around and settled into her seat, refusing to make eye contact with any of her remaining friends.

Dippet, still standing at the front of the Hall, cleared his throat. "Please, return to your meals." Then he too hurried out the doors, followed closely by Filch and several of the Professors.

Lucie lifted her head to glare at Grace and Abraxas. "What the hell was that? Why didn't either of you stand up for her?"

A tear slipped down Grace's cheek, and Lucie felt a slight twinge of guilt. "Please, Lucie, you have to understand. I __wanted __to—Eileen has been my best friend since first year! But her parents know my family. If it got back to __my __parents that I was supporting Eileen's relationship with a Muggle, I would be pulled out of school too!"

Grace's features twisted as she struggled not to cry. After a moment, she gave in, burying her face in Abraxas' shoulder, her whole body shaking. Relenting, Lucie reached across the table and lightly squeezed her hand, then one of Abraxas'. He smiled weakly at her.

"I'll—I'll see you guys in class. I just need to be alone for a few minutes." She stood, all but running from the Hall, acutely aware of nearly every student in the room staring at her.

Lucie roamed the corridors aimlessly, her mind whirring. How had the Princes found out about Tobias? As far as she knew, Eileen had only told her, Grace, Abraxas, and Edwin, and none of them were about to tell her parents. Someone must have overheard them, that day when everyone had arrived back at the castle after winter holidays, and taken it upon themselves to send a message to Mr. and Mrs. Prince.

Lucie felt the now all-too-familiar disgust spread through her again. Why would anyone do that? Eileen's parents had publicly humiliated her—weren't they worried about too many people finding out? Why would they allow an entire Hall full of students to hear what their daughter had done?

A thousand questions swimming in her head, Lucie barely noticed that she had wandered to a seldom-used corner of the Transfiguration wing. She walked past an empty classroom, thinking nothing of it, but then suddenly heard voices dripped from inside.

"—better than I expected."

Lucie stopped dead in her tracks. Riddle. Who the hell was he talking to in an abandoned classroom? Suddenly reminded of the incident with Walburga, Lucie's stomach churned. Quickly, she ducked behind a nearby statue, listening carefully.

"You're not angry, Tom?" Lucie's eyes narrowed. She'd recognize Lucretia Black's voice anywhere.

"Of course not. You've done very well. With Prince gone, I'm one step closer to getting what I really want."

"What's that, Tom?" asked another voice. Eponine Bones.

"You really want to know? All right, then, but it must stay between the three of us. I want Selwyn away from those friends of hers. They're a bad influence on her, you see, and I can't have my fellow Prefect being negatively influenced. She must only have contact with me."

"Tom, you really are too kind," said Eponine. "Selwyn doesn't deserve it."

Riddle laughed lightly. "As always, I am simply doing what must be done. Now, you two better get back to the Hall before you're missed." Inhaling sharply as the door opened, Lucie flattened herself against the statue, hoping that it was wide enough to completely conceal her. Lucretia and Eponine strode past, giggling to one another, and Lucie waited until the sound of their footsteps had completely faded before she let out the breath she had been holding.

And then she was on the ground.

Something—someone—had pulled her from behind the statue, and she fell heavily to the stone floor. Heart beating wildly, she looked up to find herself face-to-face with Tom Riddle.

He looked furious, and his wand was pointed directly between her eyes. He grabbed Lucie roughly by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, but Riddle did not give her time to fall again, as he dragged her into the classroom he had just vacated.

Realization was flying wildly through Lucie's mind. Lucretia and Eponine must have, at Riddle's request, written to the Princes. Riddle, for whatever reason, was trying to take away her friends, one by one, alienating her from everyone but him.

"Spying on me, are you Selwyn?" Any trace of Riddle's usual composure was gone, replaced by a slightly maniacal gleam in his dark eyes. Lucie didn't want to admit that this was infinitely more terrifying than the alternative. "How much did you hear? Tell me!"

She stayed silent, pressing her lips together and glaring up at him with what she hoped was defiance.

"Tell me what you heard, Selwyn," Riddle demanded, gripping her arm so tightly it hurt and pressing his wand to her neck.

"I didn't hear anything. Nothing at all." She had meant to sound bored, but her voice came out as a petrified squeak, the words more desperate than anything.

"Liar!" Riddle pushed her, and Lucie tumbled to the ground, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the stone. Riddle advanced on her, and cold fear shot through her veins. Her eyes widened, all pretense of bravery long gone. "No one lies to me. __Crucio__!"

She had never known such pain could exist. It was all there was, simultaneously burning and cutting open every inch of her body. She couldn't even scream—couldn't even remember how to produce sound.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. Tear slipped down Lucie's cheeks, and a sob ripped from her throat. Riddle grabbed the collar of her robes, pulling her upwards.

"What do you want with me?" she gasped through her sobs.

His eyes were swimming with hate and something she couldn't name. "I don't know!" He threw her to the ground again, her shoulder—which was still healing from their last encounter—roughly meeting the floor. Riddle hovered over her, wand poised, and Lucie had never been more terrified in her life. "I ought to kill you now. __Crucio!__"

This time, she did scream when the pain came. She screamed and kept screaming until her throat was raw. It seemed nothing but pain would ever exist again, and she wanted nothing more than to be free of it.

"Please!" she begged. "Please, just kill me!"

The curse was lifted, and it was all Lucie could do not to choke on the waterfall of tears pouring from her eyes. Riddle grabbed her by the forearms, dragging her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, still sobbing, and kept her eyes on the ground. Suddenly, his long-fingered hand was on her face, forcing her to look at him.

His warm lips briefly touched hers, and then his strong arms were around her as she fell into darkness.

****(Last time I posted this story, I had someone ask what actors I would pick for my OC's. If you're interested, Lucie is Emilie de Ravin, Edwin is Logan Miller, Grace is Mary Elizabeth Winstead, and Eponine is Stefanie Scott.)****


	9. Waking Up

****The Golden Thread****

****Chapter 9: Waking Up****

Lucie felt heavy—far heavier than what could have been considered natural. It was as though she were being pressed down on all sides by relentless, crushing darkness, and she was suddenly terrified. The darkness was going to suffocate her; it was going to constrict her lungs till they burst, taking with them her very last breath of life.

She wanted to struggle—truly, she did—but it was as if her limbs had been cut from her body, all the nerve endings dead and useless, leaving her perpetually stationary; completely vulnerable. It was a terrible feeling, knowing that no matter what she did or how much she wanted to, she could not protect herself from threats.

And threats were all around her, weren't they? Just look what had happened to get her here. There, in the distance, was that someone approaching? She could see the darkness rippling, something taking on the vague form of a human. Merlin, please don't let it be him.

"Selwyn." Her name was spoken like an order, and she felt herself grow cold. __Go away, Riddle__, she wanted to shout. __Go away and let me die in peace__.

But he wouldn't go away. She knew that. He'd loom over her like a shadow until the day she died. Thank Merlin it seemed that the release of death would come soon for her. Even as she struggled to focus on his hazy form, the darkness around her began to recede, bright white light coming in its stead. She welcomed it; at least, where she was going, she would be free of __Him__.

But no—the darkness around her was receding, giving way to vague, barely-there forms that were just too damn __bright__. Something was happening to her, something she could not control or stop, and the very thought of it frightened and enraged her all at once. Lucie Selwyn was always in control, always the one who decided her own fate. Merlin be damned if she was going to let that be wrested from her by some unseen force she didn't even have a name for.

It seemed, though, that she was to be defeated. The shapes around her increased in clarity and that godforsaken brightness, and suddenly, in one gasping breath, in one blindingly painful moment, she was awake.

The first thing Lucie saw was that she was in the hospital wing—how odd, she didn't remember falling ill, or even walking to the infirmary. Her eyes slid over to the large window at the opposite end of the room, and she was greeted by a sprinkling of stars on a dark blue canvas. So it was nighttime, then.

All thoughts flew from her head, giving way to utter panic, when she finally saw the boy seated next to her bed, dark eyes trained intently on her as though he expected her to bolt. All at once, the events of—how long ago was it, exactly? For all she knew, it could have been days since she was knocked unconscious—their last encounter came flooding back to her. She opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a strangled rush of air. Had she screamed so much under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse that she had rendered her vocal cords permanently useless?

"I'm afraid that screaming will be impossible, Miss Selwyn," said Riddle calmly, regarding her as though she were simply a mildly interesting painting in one of the corridors. "I have placed a Silencing Charm on you. It wouldn't do to have you waking the matron, of course."

Lucie wanted to hit him. She wanted to demand that he lift the charm, and then hex him into oblivion (where was her wand?). Instead, humiliated and completely at his mercy, she tried to make her eyes as smolderingly angry as possible so that he would feel the extent of her cold fury, and glared at him until he spoke again.

"There is no need for such hostility, Miss Selwyn." The bastard was still just as at ease, and Lucie felt her temper flare again. "I will lift the charm, but under some conditions. You must agree not to scream, and to let me explain precisely what transpired between us last night."

It had only been a day, then. Lucie felt quietly relieved at this, though she gave no such indication to Riddle. Instead, she jerked her head up and down once in a terse nod. Riddle stared at her for a few seconds before raising his wand and flicking it wordlessly. Lucie felt something rush down her throat and into her chest, and she knew her voice had been returned to her.

"You promised me an explanation, Riddle. Start talking." Lucie was quietly pleased with how strong and even her voice was.

Riddle sighed, looking every bit as though the last thing he wanted to be doing was sitting there, revealing the motives behind his actions to her. Lucie felt a surge of pride that finally, at least for the moment, she held the power. Only Merlin knew how long her good fortune would last.

"I suppose the best way to phrase this is that you…confuse me." Lucie's brow furrowed. She was unsure of what he meant, and wanted to ask, but she forced herself to keep quiet. "My first instinct was to rid myself of you."

So she was nothing more than a common nuisance, then. He had wanted to swat her like a fly. She felt anger building in her chest again, but pushed it down. It wouldn't do to allow Riddle to—yet again—compromise her emotionally. For once, she was going to stay in control around him.

"You both fascinate and infuriate me," he admitted. Lucie opened her mouth to retort, but paused mid-breath. Riddle wasn't being his normal, arrogant self. He was being…honest, so it seemed. Perhaps Lucie had been judging him too harshly. Riddle had done awful things, both to her and to others, but it seemed now that he wanted to repent, to make amends. Wouldn't she be just as awful if she didn't at least give him the opportunity?

He still terrified her, of that she had no doubt. She could recall with perfect clarity the way that Cruciatus cut into her like a million tiny razor blades. Even so, Tom Riddle wasn't the greatest evil she'd ever faced. The first sixteen years of her life were spent serving under the Supreme Ruler. If she could handle Lord Voldemort and make it out alive, surely she could handle a young—if powerful—boy like Riddle.

An idea occurred to Lucie then. She turned to Riddle, who had been waiting rather patiently for her to respond.

"I have a proposition for you, Riddle," she said calmly, slightly surprised to find that she actually felt as such.

"I'm sure I'd be fascinated to hear it," replied Riddle. Lucie couldn't tell if he was being genuine or not. She brushed it off and continued before she lost her nerve.

"My suggestion is…that we be friends." Seeing Riddle's derisive look, Lucie hurried to finish before he could get up and stalk out of the room. "It's not as bad as you might think, having a friend. And—and if you earn my trust, I'll tell you everything you want to know about me."

Lucie stopped suddenly, surprised at herself. She hadn't meant for that last part to come out. It was as though her mouth had taken on a mind of its own, spewing words that would be better left unsaid. Even so, Lucie found with a measure of astonishment that she didn't regret saying them. If Riddle actually earned the full extent of her trust—which she doubted he would—then she would find a way to tell him what he wanted to know. Besides, if that time ever came, Dumbledore surely would have found a way to return her to her own time. Perhaps she would never have to actually live up to her promise.

Riddle appeared to be contemplating her words. Lucie, for reasons she could not fathom, waited for his response with bated breath. Did she want him to agree or decline? Honestly, she hadn't the slightest idea.

"Very well," said Riddle. "We shall be…friends."

Lucie let out a breath of something akin to relief. Despite her initial hesitance, she found that she was actually pleased with the outcome of their conversation. How much harm could being friends with Tom Riddle possibly do?

…

Tom left the infirmary feeling very pleased with himself. Selwyn was far easier to manipulate than he had originally anticipated. He had expected, after his indiscretions from the previous night, she would be overwhelmed by fear of him and shut him out entirely. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she did quite the contrary. She even went so far as to propose friendship.

Tom sneered at the prospect. He wasn't one for __friends__, so to speak. He used people to accomplish his ends, and for nothing more. Selwyn, damn her, was the first person he had felt a genuine interest in, and it fueled his loathing for the girl all the more.

He had to manipulate the situation to his advantage, to stay in power; that much was for certain. He'd play along with her little friendship idea, but take it one step further.

Tom knew that he was handsome—perhaps the most attractive boy at Hogwarts. He was highly sought-after, of course, with brainless females throwing themselves at him left and right. Selwyn hadn't shown any express interest in him—except for that goddamned kiss; the very thought of it still made him burn with rage—but he would change that soon enough.

Earning her trust as __friends __would take far too long. He had to do it quickly, so that he could find out what he wanted to know about her past. Then, of course, she would be of no interest to him, and he could leave the troublesome girl behind.

So he would continue with his plan to isolate her from her friends, make her solely dependent on him, and he would seduce her. It shouldn't be too hard. He'd done it before, with other girls. They, of course, hadn't been nearly as strong-willed as Selwyn—he almost grudgingly admired the brave face she put on after being subjected to his __Cruico__; he had seen grown men turn to blubbering maniacs under the power of his wand.

It was no matter, though. He had full confidence in himself. Before long, Selwyn would be nothing without him. She would come to see him as __oxygen__, without which she had no hope of survival. Tom Riddle would be her everything.

Tom smirked as he strode down the empty corridor. With any luck, Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones would be almost done preparing the next part of his plan.

…

Lucie was released from the hospital wing the next day, and she was glad to be free of the fussy matron. The woman was nice enough, and good with her potions, but she could be overbearing. Lucie didn't like being exposed to such round-the-clock scrutiny, and she practically ran from the room when she was told that she could go.

From what the matron had said, Lucie gathered that Tom's story had been something along the lines of finding her unconscious in one of the corridors. He said he had been worried when she hadn't showed up for Prefect duties, and had gone looking for her. It seemed the cause of her collapse, the matron said, had been exhaustion. Lucie simply stared at the woman as she explained things, trying not to shudder at the memory of what had actually transpired.

The memory of the Cruciatus was potent, and it was all Lucie could do not to let it overcome her at any moment. She felt like crying every time she thought of it, and so was glad for the distraction when she finally met Grace, Abraxas, and Edwin in the Great Hall that morning for breakfast.

"Lucie, we were so worried," said Grace, throwing a comforting arm around her friend. "Are you feeling better?"

"Absolutely," Lucie lied. "I was just stressing myself out about schoolwork, I think. I just needed some rest, that's all. I'm all better now." If any of them were disbelieving of her story, they gave no indication, and Lucie let out a breath of relief.

"So," said Edwin, "did you get caught up on your homework? I can help you if you need it."

Lucie smiled genuinely. "Thanks, Edwin, but I think I'm all right. I was just being a little ovedramat—" Lucie was suddenly cut off by someone knocking into her. She looked up, expecting to see an apologetic first year or perhaps a gaggle of gossiping girls who couldn't be bothered to look where they were going, but instead she found herself looking into the sneering faces of Lucretia Black and Eponine Bones.

"Something I can help you with?" Lucie asked coldly, raising her eyebrows at the two girls.

"You could try not to take up the entire aisle," Eponine shot back nastily. "Some normal-sized people still have to get through."

Lucie rolled her eyes, too tired to take the bait. "How clever of you, Eponine. Why don't the two of you go and powder your noses now?"

The girls scoffed, but turned and stalked away nonetheless. Lucie, feeling her short-lived good mood drain away, turned back to her table. She could really do with a good nap. Moodily, she picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice, tipped it back, and drained it.

…

Lucie couldn't get him out of her mind. Every thought was of him, and it was driving her crazy. She had to see him, and she had to see him right that second. She wondered if he was thinking of her too. For whatever reason, it felt like he was. They just felt…__connected __that way.

Unable to stop herself, she climbed hurriedly out of bed, not paying enough attention to notice if she was making too much noise. If Grace or any of the others woke up, they could just go back to sleep. It wasn't her problem.

Bounding down the common room with an unexplainable sense of apprehension in her belly, Lucie tried to fathom why she loved him so much. There were hardly words for it. Then, suddenly, there he was.

Abraxas.

Had she always felt this way about him, or had it just started? She didn't know. At that moment, she didn't really care. She just wanted to hear his voice.

"How did you know?" she breathed, reaching out to him.

"The same way you did," he whispered back, taking her hand and pulling her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Lucie felt a little thrill run through her. She had never said those words to a boy before. It was exhilarating, the way they rested on her tongue, the way they made her lips tingle. It was as though she was finally complete.

Leaning up, Lucie molded her lips to Abraxas' as though she had done it a thousand times. It was the most natural, yet exciting thing she had ever experienced. When they broke apart, she immediately wanted more. She went in for another kiss, closing her eyes.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Lucie and Abraxas whipped around to face the stairs, finding themselves looking directly into the eyes of Grace.


	10. Aftermath

**The Golden Thread**

**Chapter 10: Aftermath **

**(A/N: Sorry for my little hiatus, guys! Life caught up with me for a while, but I'll be updating more consistently from now on. Enjoy the chapter!)**

Before Lucie or Abraxas could provide an answer, Grace turned and ran up the stairs to the dormitory, tears running down her cheeks. Lucie heard a sob escape her friend's throat, and something began to creep through the fog in her mind. She couldn't quite grasp it, though. All she could think of was Abraxas.

They kissed again, but something felt off about it. Lucie didn't know what it could be. All she could think about since—well, as long as she could remember—was wanting to kiss him, to be with him. There was nothing _wrong _about it.

"Abraxas," she said breathlessly, pulling away from him. "Should we...talk to Grace?" The notion seemed absurd. Why would they waste time talking to Grace when all they wanted was to be together.

Abraxas put his lips to her neck, and all thought flew from Lucie's mind. "Perhaps we should wait until morning," he murmured against her skin. It tickled, but Lucie loved every second of it. "She may be calmer by then."

"Perhaps," Lucie replied. "And you'd really leave her for me?"

Abraxas leaned back, smiling. "I'll break up with her the second the sun rises. I love you, Lucie. I'd do anything for you."

So as much as they wanted to continue kissing each other, Lucie and Abraxas agreed to go to bed. They had all the time in the world to be together. Abraxas would only need a few minutes in the morning to terminate his relationship with Grace.

When Lucie entered the dormitory, the curtains were pulled around Grace's bed, and all was silent. Lucie didn't think much of it. It was only natural for Grace to be upset, of course; she'd lost someone as great as Abraxas. Lucie wondered if she should have felt guilty for taking Grace's boyfriend, but shook her head. It wasn't _her _fault that she and Abraxas were in love.

So with thoughts of him, and the life they would lead together, Lucie drifted off to sleep.

…

When Lucie woke up, she felt as though she'd like to go right on over to the washroom and vomit. Her head was pounding, she was nauseous, and she felt an inexplicable sense of shame. Once, during Anastasia's wedding, her parents had allowed her free access to the Firewhiskey. She'd drank far more than she should have, and the hangover that had followed had made her want to die.

That's how she felt the morning after her kiss with Abraxas.

Lucie's stomach churned as she remembered the events of the previous night. She had _kissed _Abraxas. She had told him that she _loved _him. It couldn't be further from the truth. He was her friend—and worse, he was Grace's boyfriend—and she cared for him, but she most certainly wasn't in love with him.

What could have gotten into her? The symptoms—the immediate, unconditional love paired with the complete lack of regard for anyone who got hurt in the process—seemed like that of a love potion, but Lucie couldn't imagine when she would have taken one of those. Perhaps it had been slipped to her, as a joke.

With a sense of dread that she could not shake, Lucie rose and put on her casual clothes—which, in 1943, was a skirt, blouse, stockings, and a pair of glossy black shoes. It was Saturday morning, and the dormitory was already deserted. Her stomach growling, Lucie headed for the stairs, thinking that her friends would be waiting for her at breakfast.

They were not. Grace and Abraxas were in the common room, huddled together and looking highly disturbed. Lucie walked over to them, opening her mouth to ask what the bloody hell had happened the previous night.

Grace beat her to it. "How could you, Lucie?" she asked, eyes red-rimmed and blazing with fury.

Abraxas looked angry as well. "Honestly, I thought you were better than that."

Lucie furrowed her brow. "Better than what?" She shook her head. There were more important matters to discuss. "Look, Abraxas, about last night, I think someone slipped us a love potion—"

"I don't think 'someone' slipped us a love potion, Lucie," Abraxas spat. "I think _you _did."

Lucie's eyes widened. "Me? Why on earth would I give you a love potion?"

Abraxas put his arm around Grace, who had begun to cry again. "I don't know, Lucie. I really don't know. If you're attracted to me, I'm sorry, but I'm in love with Grace. You know that. Trying to get around it by giving me a potion...that was a really despicable thing to do."

"But I didn't!" Lucie, becoming angry, was nearly shouting. "I'm not attracted to you, Abraxas. I never have been. I swear to Merlin I didn't give you a love potion. Someone slipped it to both of us!"

"We've doubted your judgment before, Lucie," Grace cut in, "when you started talking to Edwin Bones. I guess our instincts were right."

Lucie's eyes narrowed. "Don't you bring Edwin into this. He's your friend to."

Grace drew herself up to her full height. "Any friend of yours is no friend of mine. I couldn't associate with someone who keeps such horrible company." Lucie's mouth fell open. How could Grace say such things to her? Just as Lucie was about to retort, Grace spoke again. "I bet you thought I wouldn't find out. Lucky for me, you were too loud. You woke up Lucretia and Eponine. They said they heard something in the common room, and asked me to go down and check. I never imagined what I'd find."

Lucie reached for Grace's hand, but the other girl pulled away. "Grace, I didn't give Abraxas that potion. You've got to believe me—"

"Well, I don't," said Grace, her voice colder than Lucie had ever heard it. "Don't bother talking to us any more, Lucie. This friendship is over."

Realization dawned on Lucie as she thought about what Grace had said. Desperately, she reached out again, only to have her hand slapped away. "Grace, don't you see? It was Lucretia and Eponine! They must have slipped us the potion!"

"Why on earth would they do that?" asked Abraxas. "Lucretia and Eponine's issues are with you. They have no reason to end my relationship with Grace."

Lucie bit her lip. She couldn't tell them about the conversation she'd overheard between Lucretia, Eponine, and Tom Riddle. In addition to her lingering fear of him—he'd tortured her twice, after all—they'd just decided to try and pursue a friendship. She couldn't betray his trust like that.

Grace scoffed. "What, didn't have enough time to come up with a reason? Lucretia and Eponine have never been anything but lovely to me, Lucie. Don't you dare try to blame them for what you did."

"Grace," Lucie begged, "how can you not realize that I would never do something like this to you? We're friends. I care about you, and I care about your relationship with Abraxas."

"You're wrong, Lucie," said Grace. "We're not friends anymore. Let's go Abraxas." The couple left the common room, slamming the door behind them. Lucie stood there, alone, shock settling in. She couldn't believe it. Just like that, Grace and Abraxas had completely written her off as a person. It was something she had never experienced before, and she certainly didn't like it.

One thing was for sure—she was going to kill Tom Riddle. Clearly, he was going ahead with his plan to isolate her from her friends. Lucie stormed towards the door, ready to find Riddle and give him a piece of her mind.

As she reached for the handle, though, Lucie paused. Perhaps Riddle wasn't involved. He was a good actor, but he had seemed genuine when he agreed to being her friend in the hospital wing. He may have planted the idea in Lucretia and Eponine's minds, and then abandoned the plan, but they'd continued on their own anyway. Maybe they had even come up with it on their own. A love potion didn't seem like Tom Riddle's style, after all.

Lucie had to stop, and think. It wouldn't do to go accusing Riddle of something without knowing all the facts. For one, it was dangerous—he could torture her again any time he liked—and for another, it was unladylike. She had to play it safe.

Perhaps she should observe from a distance. She could go ahead and try to be his friend, and perhaps if he came to trust her enough, she could ask him if he'd been involved in the incident. Yes, that seemed like the most reasonable course of action.

Lucie sat down heavily in an armchair, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't go to breakfast, hungry as she was. She didn't think she'd be able to even look at Grace and Abraxas for a while. She couldn't exactly stay in the common room all day, either, though. Sighing, Lucie trudged back up to the dormitory and shoved some books and parchment into her bag. It seemed as though she was going to have to hide out in the library.

Lucie sat in a secluded corner, at the same table she'd studied at just a few days after arriving in the past. Back then, she had just met Grace and Abraxas and Eileen. They were just getting to know each other. There were no complications regarding Muggle boys, pureblood-fanatic parents, or love potions. Back then, she hadn't even been afraid of Tom Riddle.

A few hours later, out of the corner of her eye, Lucie saw someone sit down across from her. She looked up from her book, but it was not Grace or Abraxas, as she had hoped, but Edwin. He gazed at her carefully, and she could tell by the look on his face that he knew what had happened.

"Hello, Lucie," he said after a while.

"You're actually speaking to me?" she snapped, rather impolitely, feeling only a tiny twinge of guilt for her tone. Edwin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about it.

"Yes, I'm speaking to you. I don't believe what Grace and Abraxas said. I don't think you gave him that potion."

Lucie's expression softened considerably. "You—you believe me?" Edwin nodded. "Oh, Edwin, I tried to tell them that it wasn't me, but they wouldn't listen! Abraxas has it in his head that I'm attracted to him, but I'm not! No matter what I said, they had their minds made up."

Edwin reached over, taking one of her hands in his. Lucie gazed down, curious. "Lucie, they'll come around, I promise. If they're really your friends, they'll see reason eventually."

_But what if I'm not here by then_? Lucie thought, and for the first time she felt a sense of dread at the prospect of returning home. She didn't want to go back to the future with Grace and Abraxas still hating her. They were the best friends she'd ever had, much better than any in her own time.

The thought surprised Lucie even as it went through her mind. She'd never really thought about it, but it was true. Back home, she'd only ever associated with Scorpius, her siblings, and a few girls in her year at school. It didn't matter if they had anything in common, they were simply convenient. All their lives revolved around serving the Supreme Ruler, and all of them (Lucie included) were so concerned with being _proper _all the time that they really never had time to actually bond.

Grace and Abraxas, though, made her laugh. They were easy to talk to, and it was about things other than blood purity and the social hierarchy. Lucie had never realized until she came to the past how much those things bored her. Grace, Abraxas, Eileen, and Edwin were the first truly interesting people she had ever met.

And now she had lost all but one of them. Lucie looked up at Edwin, holding back tears, and was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful for his presence. She may have lost most of her friends, but as long as he was around, the past didn't seem so bleak.

…

A month later, Grace and Abraxas still hadn't spoke another word to Lucie. They avoided her at meals and in the common room, refused to look her direction during classes, and by the time Lucie went to bed at night, Grace would already have pulled the curtains around her bed.

Lucie and Edwin had begun spending all of their free time together. They sat together when the Slytherins had classes with the Hufflepuffs, they studied together in the library well into the evening, and Lucie had even begun eating at the Hufflepuff table. She got glares from some of Edwin's housemates, but mostly she was able to ignore them.

As sad as she was to not be speaking to Grace and Abraxas, Lucie rather enjoyed Edwin's company. He was a good listener, and she felt that she could trust him far more than she had ever trusted anyone. He hadn't abandoned her after the love potion fiasco, and it didn't look like he would any time soon.

Lucie's relationship with Riddle had improved substantially as well. He was pleasant during their patrols, and sometimes even studied with her and Edwin in the library. These occurrences were few and far between, but Lucie enjoyed them nonetheless.

Something was different about Riddle, though. Before, he had kept a very careful distance between the two of them. Now, he sometimes stood uncomfortably close to her, and the part of Lucie that wasn't afraid of being tortured again wanted to kiss him. She was still highly attracted to him, despite her wariness, and it was almost infuriating. Sometimes, he seemed almost like he could fancy her, and other times he was as aloof as ever. It was almost like he was playing a game with her, trying to keep her guessing so she would stay hooked. He'd give her just enough to keep her interested, but then pull back and make her try even harder.

Lucie didn't think he was doing it on purpose. Outside of that, Riddle was turning out to be a decent friend. It didn't seem likely that he would be attempting to confuse her intentionally. It was probably all in her head.

One day, Lucie and Edwin were alone in the library, deep in conversation. Their books sat on the table, open and discarded as the two friends discussed what they would be doing over the summer holidays. Lucie was letting Edwin do all the talking, praying that he wouldn't ask her any questions she couldn't answer.

"What about you?" he asked after a while. "I know it's been quite a few months since you've seen your parents. Are you going to be able to see them again?"

Lucie tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, eyes trained carefully on the wood of the table. "Oh, I expect so. I hope so."

"You've never told me much about your parents," Edwin said. "What are they like?"

Lucie bit her lip. These were exactly the kind of queries she'd been hoping to avoid. "Well..they're great. Wonderful. They love me very much. They're...great."

Edwin leaned back in his chair. "You don't sound very convinced."

"What makes you say that?"

Edwin scoffed, and Lucie looked up at him surprised. "Lucie, you're my best friend," he said. "I can tell when you're lying."

Lucie looked back down at the table. She was his best friend? Well, she supposed it made sense. She and Edwin had no one but each other. Truth be told, she saw him as her best friend as well. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell him just a little bit about her parents. She didn't need to reveal her secret, but there were some things that had been plaguing her since arriving in the past, and it would feel good to get them off her chest.

"Well," she said finally, "honestly...I do love my parents, but sometimes I don't understand their way of thinking. Ever since I was born, all I've been taught was that blood purity is the most important thing, and that I have to marry into a good family. All I'm worth is continuing our bloodline, keeping the Selwyn name from being tainted. To my parents, Muggles and Muggle-borns and Half-bloods...well, they're seen as less than human. Sometimes this all makes sense to me, because it's all I've ever known, but sometimes it just seems...cruel. I never thought like that until I came to Hogwarts, and it scares me. I don't want to let my parents down."

Edwin looked deep in thought for a moment, and Lucie was glad for the silence. She'd never said any of those things out loud—to do so would be treacherous—until then. It felt...liberating, to her great surprise. Saying them to Edwin didn't feel like a betrayal of her family, but as though she was finally being honest with herself.

"I was raised in a pureblood house, too," Edwin responded, "but I've never held blood status in particularly high esteem. Eponine didn't, either, until she befriended Lucretia. I don't know how to help you with that, Lucie. It sounds like you're coming to those answers on your own, though."

Lucie toyed with the ends of her hair. "I think I am."

"I will say this, though," said Edwin, picking up his textbook and placing it back in front of him, "perhaps you never should have been in Slytherin after all."


End file.
